By Design
by valshopaholic
Summary: Neal has the score of a lifetime that he didn't ask for. What will it mean for him and those he loves? Meanwhile, life goes on and he goes undercover as a fashion model :
1. Chapter 1

**By Design **

_**A/N: "By Design" is a sequel to "A Priestly Sum" which was published just before Season 3 kicked off in June 2011. This story picks up immediately after where "A Priestly Sum" left off, when it was revealed to Neal that his father was alive and was responsible for swapping the U-boat treasure out. The primary White Collar characters are the creation of Jeff Eastin, creator and showrunner of the show. The character of Stephanie Harper, for the benefit of readers who are not familiar with my previous stories, is a self-made millionaire, and widow of someone from one of Manhattan's richest families. She is also the college sweetheart of Peter Burke and has been working secretly for the FBI White Collar Crime Division since college.**_

* * *

><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

Neal walked into the FBI office with a cup of mocha chai latte in his hand. The office was already abuzz with activity and it was barely 7.30am. He took his hat off and placed it on the corner of his desk, then hung his jacket on the back of his chair before sitting down without saying a word to anyone. He picked up a file that was on the top of the pile that had accumulated there over the past few weeks – these were cases that Peter had asked him to look over before they had solved the Adler case.

Neal picked up his BlackBerry. Three missed calls from Stephanie this morning. He put the phone down and returned his focus to the files in front of him.

Fifteen minutes later, Neal was staring at his empty coffee cup and wishing there was an espresso machine in the office kitchen when Peter stepped off the elevator, walked into the bullpen and placed a fresh cup of coffee and a bear claw, still warm from the bakery, on his desk.

Neal looked up from his files and found Peter smiling down at him.

"Morning," Peter said.

"Morning," Neal returned the greeting with mild suspicion. "What have I done to deserve this?" Neal asked.

"What? Can't a guy buy his friend some breakfast?" Peter asked.

"So we're friends again?" Neal asked hesitantly.

"You helped me catch some bad guys and I know you're not the one who switched the U-boat treasure, so I'm calling a truce for now," Peter replied.

"Did Elizabeth put you up to this?" Neal asked.

"Well, yes," Peter admitted. "And I know Stephanie is heading out of town, so let's just say I'm doing her a favour by keeping you fed and watered while she's gone," Peter teased.

"Really? Are you my babysitter now?" Neal said as he bit into the bear claw. "It's sweet that you're worried about me but Stephanie is only going to be gone for a couple of weeks and I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself."

"That's good to know because we still have work to do and bad guys to catch," Peter said. "I need you to be on your 'A' game and not pining over your girlfriend."

"How long are you going to keep this schoolyard teasing up, Peter?" Neal asked.

"For as long as it still makes me smile," Peter replied.

"You used to say the thought of sending me back to prison made you smile too," Neal replied.

"The _**threat**_ of sending you back to prison, not the _**thought**_. There's a difference," Peter said a little defensively.

"Well, thanks for breakfast," Neal added and looked back down at his paperwork while he continued to eat.

Instead of heading to his own office, Peter lingered at Neal's desk.

Neal finally looked up at Peter again, "Have I got crumbs on my chin?" he asked.

Peter put his hands in his pockets and replied, "Neal, I just wanted to tell you I'm really happy you and Stephanie are together…" Peter paused as he saw Neal frown at the word 'together', "or whatever you want to call your relationship. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable talking to me about Stephanie just because she's my ex-girlfriend. I'm here for you buddy."

With that, he left Neal alone.

* * *

><p>Stephanie stepped off the elevator from her Park Avenue penthouse apartment carrying a laptop bag and handbag while her housekeeper Sofia pulled a couple of suitcases along behind her. Barry, the Concierge, hurried to the door to take over from Sofia.<p>

"I'll see you in a couple of weeks, Sofia. Enjoy your break," Stephanie said to her housekeeper.

"Thank you, Mrs Harper. Have a safe trip," Sofia replied before stepping back onto the elevator to return to the Harper penthouse.

"Good morning, Mrs Harper," Barry greeted.

"Good morning, Barry," Stephanie replied.

"One of these days, ma'am, these suitcases will be for a vacation instead of business," Barry commented as he strode behind Stephanie with her bags.

"Hmm, yes, that would be nice," Stephanie replied.

"If you don't mind my saying, Mrs Harper, you could do with a break," Barry said with a smile. "Maybe have some fun with Mr Halden?" Barry suggested.

Stephanie stopped mid-stride, turned to Barry and said with a cautious smile, "Barry, you've been working here for a long time so I know you understand that I expect complete discretion with regards to Mr Halden and any visitors who come here to see me."

"Of course, Mrs Harper," Barry replied.

"Because you know, someone in my position, naturally attract a lot of people who could be snooping around for one reason or another," Stephanie continued with a slightly forceful tone.

"Yes, Mrs Harper! You know I'm not one to gossip," Barry added.

"I knew you would understand," Stephanie said as she turned back to continue walking towards the front door.

As Stephanie and Barry approached the door, her driver, dressed in a chauffeur's uniform complete with hat pulled low over his eyes, walked towards them and held out his hand to take Stephanie's bags.

"Thank you, Jeffrey," she said to her driver as they walked out on to the street toward her limousine. Her driver held open the car door for her while Barry loaded her luggage into the trunk.

When everything had been loaded, Barry waved to Stephanie one last time before returning to his post inside.

As the car pulled away from the sidewalk, the driver finally took his hat off and looked at Stephanie from his rear-view mirror. It was Nicholas Caffrey, the same man who had been responsible for switching out the U-boat treasure from Adler's warehouse at the pier.

"Why did you sell the Degas?" Stephanie asked.

"To fund our getaway," Nicholas replied.

"You realise that's going to draw attention," Stephanie said.

"I was careful," Nicholas replied, "just like I was careful whenever I got your husband what he wanted."

Stephanie did not reply. Her late husband's penchant for stealing and buying stolen art despite being one of the wealthiest people in the US remained a tightly-guarded secret, and an even greater concern for her now that he was gone.

"It's been three days," Nicholas finally said, breaking the silence.

"Nicholas, you've had thirty years to think about this," Stephanie replied. "Neal has had three days. He can barely deal with finding out that the father he believed to have been long dead is actually still alive, let alone all the art. It's a life-changing decision."

"What's he said to you?" Nicholas pushed on.

"He's not returning my calls," Stephanie spoke as she stared out the darkened window of her limousine.

"I want to talk to him," Nicholas said.

"He's not ready," Stephanie replied.

"We have to keep moving," Nicholas said. "The art was never meant to sit in that store room indefinitely and I'm not prepared to wait too much longer."

"Are you afraid Neal will choose Peter over you?" Stephanie asked.

"Burke's a Fed. I'm his father," Nicholas replied.

"Peter's been more of a father to him in the last two years than you have been for the last thirty," Stephanie said.

Nicholas did not reply. Stephanie spoke again. "What will you do if Neal chooses to stay?"

"My son will make the right choice," came the simple reply.

"For him or for you?" Stephanie asked.

"For us," Nicholas replied confidently.

"What makes you think you want the same thing?" Stephanie said.

"He is my son," Nicholas said.

"He doesn't know you," Stephanie retorted. "All the pieces will fall into place when he's ready."

"And while Neal is deciding, the clock is ticking. The Feds are closing in," Nicholas warned.

"They don't have anything concrete," Stephanie replied.

"Maybe that's just what they want you to think because they know you've been seeing Neal but I noticed you've grown a tail recently," Nicholas commented.

"It's not the FBI," Stephanie replied. "My guys have beefed up the security around my house and all my offices already."

"Any idea who it might be?" Nicholas asked.

"Could be anyone – journalists, paparazzi, corporate spies," Stephanie said.

"You know Burke has called in the Art Crimes Division in DC to investigate," Nicholas said. "You need to find out what they know."

"Hence the purpose of this trip," Stephanie said. "Peter is smart, Nicholas. He is much smarter than you ever gave him credit for. I can't keep asking him questions or he'll start to suspect something."

"Tick-tock, Stephanie. You have two weeks. Or I'm leaving," Nicholas said.

"What about Neal?" Stephanie asked.

"Two weeks," Nicholas repeated.

* * *

><p>Diana and Jones were sitting in the conference room looking at the latest issue of Vogue magazine. The Harvard crew was settling down and chatting when Peter walked into the room, followed by a still-distracted Neal.<p>

Neal walked over to stand behind Diana and Jones, looking over their shoulder to see what they were looking at. "Buying a new Prada bag for Christie?" Neal asked Diana.

"Can one of your forger friends get me one?" Diana asked.

Neal looked at her seriously, trying to determine if she was serious about wanting a Prada from the black market or if she was just ribbing him again – he could never be certain with her. He decided she was ribbing him and ignored the question and gave her a sarcastic "yeah, right" smirk.

"All right, quiet everybody!" Peter said loudly. Neal took his spot by the window sitting on the window sill. After four years behind bars, no-one could appreciate having a window more than Neal.

The room fell silent as all eyes focused on Peter standing at the front of the room. The screen on the wall changed from the FBI logo to a photo of a magazine ad featuring a naked woman kissing a man in a three-piece suit. The woman was wearing the highest pair of stilettos ever seen, accessorised with a thick diamond bracelet, a chunky diamond necklace and matching earrings and hair pin. The men in the room whistled but a look from Peter silenced them immediately.

"As you all know, Fashion Week is coming up," Peter began. Neal grinned – it seemed like only yesterday that Peter barely noticed the hordes of beautiful models flooding Manhattan around this time of year.

"These days, the fashion shows are not just about the clothes," Peter said.

"Clearly," Jones snickered and was stared down by Peter for the interruption.

"The accessories industry is worth over $100billion," Peter continued. "The speed at which the latest designs are copied by counterfeiters of handbags, shoes and jewellery is faster than ever before and fashion houses are losing millions everyday."

"The first copy of Catherine Middleton's wedding dress was on the market within 24 hours of her stepping out of the car at Westminster Abbey to say 'I do' to Prince William," Diana added.

"Right," Peter said. "We've been cracking down on the counterfeits hitting some of the major fashion houses over the past decade, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Gucci, but now the counterfeiters are getting smarter and starting to hit the smaller up-and-coming fashion houses and copying their work before they're even launched so they're ready to hit the market as soon as the first model steps on to the catwalk."

"Yeah, but they're usually manufactured outside the US or Europe so they're hard to catch and outside our jurisdiction unless we're investigating the sale of the counterfeits," Neal chimed in.

"And that's why we're going to try to shut them down before the designs leave the country," Peter said.

"Who are we investigating, exactly?" Neal asked.

"What do you know of _Verone & Sassia_?" Peter asked.

"Lena Verone and Carol Sassia – best friends since high school. They were turned down by every design house until they were discovered by some Hollywood starlet who started carrying their purses and wearing their jewellery 18 months ago. Started hitting the fashion shows soon after. I believe _**Vogue**_ called them the future of style at the Paris show recently," Neal replied.

Peter looked at Neal, clearly impressed but not surprised by his knowledge.

"They just signed a multi-million dollar deal with Saks as sole distributor of their latest line of jewellery a couple of weeks ago," Jones added.

"They did," Peter said. "$10million to be exact. The new line is due to be launched in a week as part of Fashion Week. Saks have already had pre-orders for some pieces from some of their clients, sight unseen."

"That's not surprising," Diana said. "New Yorkers want to be the trend-setters so that by the time the _Real Housewives of Beverly Hills_ are seen wearing the same pieces they are already out-dated."

"So what does this have to do with us?" Neal asked.

"Yesterday, Lena Verone received this," Peter said as he switched the monitor on the wall to an email.

The email read:

_"Congratulations on your deal with Saks. Love your work. So will all of Manhattan's bargain shoppers. $5million. I'll be in touch."_

"Not much of a blackmail note," Neal commented. "How credible is this?"

"The blackmailer sent photos of five of their signature pieces to _Verone & Sassia_ two hours later," Peter replied as he passed some photos inside evidence bags around the table. "We have a women's bracelet, a ring, earrings, a tie-bar and cufflinks. Lena Verone confirmed these are very close replicas of some of the pieces in their new collection."

"The photos came with the threat that if Verone & Sassia don't pay up by the end of the week, the entire collection of replicas will be released online," Jones added.

"The photos look professional," Neal said as he inspected the photos closely. "How many people have seen or had access to the designs?"

"Verone and Sassia claim all their pieces are individually hand-made," Diana said. "They made the prototypes but they also have three jewellery-makers who work for them to make the additional pieces."

"Lena said the pieces were photographed last week for the _Bon Chance_ magazine shoot," Peter added as he passed around some more photos.

Jones picked up one of them, similar to the one on the monitor earlier and whistled at the lack of clothing on the models. "I'm not sure their strategy is working if they want readers to be looking at the accessories rather than the models."

Neal took the photo from Jones and smiled. It was Diana's turn to give the men a disapproving look. Neal turned serious.

"So our list of suspects includes the jewellery-makers who work for Verone & Sassia, the models, the stylists, the photographer, the photographer's assistants, the magazine editors – for starters – and that's assuming neither Lena Verone nor Carol Sassia had anything to do with the blackmail note," Neal summed up.

"Lena and Carol are equal partners. They have no reason to do this," Diana said.

"Do we have any other potential suspects? It's a cut-throat industry. I imagine they could have made enemies along the way," Neal said.

"Could be, but we're still looking into their backgrounds to look for whoever is behind this," Peter said. "In the meantime, we have to look at the people who had immediate access to the photos to find the leak."

"Did Carol receive the same note or was it only sent to Lena?" Neal asked.

"Carol was on a flight coming back from Western Australia looking at pearls when Lena received this so we don't know yet," Peter said. "She's due to land in JFK in an hour. I've asked Lena to let us know when she arrives."

"So, where's our 'in'?" Neal asked Peter.

"There's another scheduled photo shoot tomorrow for _Bon Chance_ and we're going to be there," Peter replied.

Neal raised his eyebrows and asked, "We're going to just waltz in and ask the blackmailer to raise his or her hand?"

"No," Peter replied with a slight hint of a smile. "They're re-shooting because they weren't happy with one of the models from last week."

Neal was immediately worried by Peter's smirk. "Why?" Neal asked hesitantly.

"To quote the editor: 'He looks like a funeral director'," Diana replied.

"He looked pretty good to me," Jones replied.

"That's because you're looking at **her**," Diana said as she pointed at the naked female model.

"That still doesn't really answer my question," Neal said. "How do we get in to question our suspects?"

"Well, they're looking for a new male model who isn't going to look like a funeral director," Peter replied. The smirk on his face was unmistakable now.

"I'll do it," Jones volunteered.

"Thanks Jones, but we, through Lena, submitted a few candidates, and the editor has already picked someone else," Peter replied.

"Who did they pick?" Diana asked. Then the Harvard crew followed Peter's gaze.

"Are you ready to strike a pose?" Peter asked Neal.

"This already feels worse than the bachelor auction," Neal sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Stephanie sat in the cabin of her private jet, en route to Washington, D.C., quiet in her thoughts as she stared at her laptop monitor. On the screen was the storage room filled with the treasures she helped Nicholas Caffrey steal back from Vincent Adler. The hidden camera he placed in the room gave her a three-sixty degree view of all the contents.

Stephanie manoeuvred the webcam around the room with her touchpad, slowly inspecting each piece of treasure. She knew that Nicholas visited the room frequently. There was a clock which he had carefully placed in a corner to ensure the feed she was watching was live and had not been tampered with. She was mentally checking off each piece as she looked around the room. Everything remained untouched – all but Degas' _The_ _Entrance of the Masked Dancers_. She had noticed it missing the day after she took Neal to the storage room and told him the truth about his father and her connection to him.

Stephanie had called Hale immediately. Only two people beside her had access to that room, and only one would be brazen enough to take the painting.

_"Hale," Stephanie had greeted on a secure line. "Has Nicholas been to see you?"_

_"He most certainly has!" Hale had replied with great enthusiasm. "He brought me the most exquisite piece of art that has not been seen in nearly seventy years."_

_"You can't sell it, Hale," Stephanie said. "I need it back."_

_"I'm so sorry, my dear, but I already delivered it to the new owner this morning," Hale replied._

_"How is that possible, Hale? That painting can't have been gone for longer than twelve hours!" Stephanie said._

_"Nicholas told me three days ago he wanted to fence a 'new' Degas and asked me to start gathering bids," Hale explained. "With a piece like this that had been out of sight for so long, it didn't take long for the bidding to heat up. To be honest, I probably could have got even more for it but Nicholas said he was worried it would draw attention with the Feds if we held out any longer."_

_"How much did he get, Hale?" Stephanie asked._

_"Six million." _

And with that, Stephanie knew there was no going back.

Nicholas was right – it would not have taken much longer for the painting to come to Peter's attention had it still been on the market. Maybe it already did.

She knew Peter had found something that could lead him back to the art but she had not figured out what yet. DC Art Crimes being involved in Peter's investigation did not surprise her. Although she had not been in contact with Peter since he joined the FBI, she had always followed his career carefully and had known that he had spent time working for Art Crimes after graduating from Quantico. She had no idea what she might find in Washington but she knew she had to stay one step ahead of Peter, or at least keep up with him.

Stephanie switched off the webcam and opened up the personnel file she had obtained on Agent Kramer, head of the Art Crimes Division in DC. He had been Peter's first boss and mentor, and also had a reputation for catching some of the biggest white collar criminals in the country. He was also very well-respected amongst his peers and internationally.

She remembered some of the stories her own bosses, Hughes and Bancroft, had told her about him when they first recruited her into the FBI. They said Kramer could spot a forgery as well as any art expert in the world – in fact, he had been responsible for identifying many of the forgeries that Neal was suspected of masterminding. None of that mattered now that Peter had given Neal full immunity during their hunt for Vincent Adler.

She had no doubt Kramer knew about the missing art and was investigating this. If she was to help Nicholas get away and ensure Neal remained clear of Peter's suspicions, she needed to find out what he knew and create diversions.

Stephanie re-read Kramer's background and professional history. Peter had always been a just and righteous man – that was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him a lifetime ago – and she could see from Kramer's record that he had been the perfect mentor for Peter. Justice defined them and they defined justice. They did not believe in greys.

Finally, Stephanie shut off her screen. Her head throbbed with an ache that would not go away. She had always known this day would come when Nicholas would finally be able to have the life he had wanted, and to have it with his son.

His son. Neal Caffrey.

Suddenly, her heart began to beat faster. She had spent years searching for him when, out of the blue, he appeared at Adler's table at the Antiquities Recovery Project charity dinner over eight years ago. They didn't meet then, of course. But even then, she realised he was different from any other man she had met.

She knew she had fallen for him the first time they danced together at the fund-raiser at the Harper Gallery six months ago. He had completely taken her breath away. She had tried to keep her feelings in check – for nearly twenty years, 'Neal Caffrey' had just been a mission she needed to complete to fulfil her father's dying wish to help his former partner, Nicholas Caffrey.

She downed the rest of her vodka and lime, leant back in her leather seat and closed her eyes.

"Mrs Harper," said Eliza, the flight attendant who had been working for the Harpers for the past five years.

Stephanie opened her eyes. "How long was I out for?" she asked.

"Only a few minutes, ma'am," came the reply. Eliza handed Stephanie a warm towel and a fresh glass of water and said, "We'll be landing in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, Eliza," Stephanie said. She picked up her BlackBerry to check for messages. She wished Neal would return her calls.

For the first time, she realised she needed Neal Caffrey.

* * *

><p>"What's the emergency, Moz?" Neal asked his friend when they met in Bryant Park. They ordered coffee from a street vendor.<p>

Neal paid for the coffees and the pair began to walk. Mozzie replied, "Word on the street is that Hale fenced a new Degas two days ago."

"Edgar Degas has been dead for nearly a hundred years, Moz. There can't be a new Degas," Neal replied.

"Go ahead and mock me, my friend," Mozzie continued, "but you know what I mean. Don't we have a Degas in that collection in the storage room?"

"'_**We**_' don't have anything," Neal said, and received an exasperated look from his friend. Neal stopped walking. "Moz, I have something to tell you."

"I've been waiting for a moment like this ever since you started getting serious with the Secret Suit," Mozzie said.

Neal frowned, giving his friend a "What?" look. "Did you ask her about the typewriter yet? Because I still haven't been able to work it out," Mozzie said.

Neal took a gulp of his coffee then looked away from Mozzie.

"Wait!" Mozzie exclaimed. "You did more than ask her about the typewriter, didn't you?" Neal remained silent.

"Did you tell her you had the treasure?" Mozzie continued. When he got no answer, he said, "I knew it! You told her! Neal, what if she tells the Suit?"

Neal turned back to look Mozzie. "She already knew about the treasure, Moz. She was the one who put it there," Neal finally said.

"**What**? How?" Mozzie asked.

"She had some help," Neal replied.

"Neal, what's going on? What are you talking about?"

Neal resumed walking. Mozzie followed.

"The morning after we solved that crooked priest money laundering case, I asked Stephanie to meet me at Ganesvoort," Neal began. "When we walked into the warehouse, she didn't look surprised at all. Then she handed me a classified file – a very thick file – marked 'N. Caffrey', only it wasn't a file on me. It was a file on my Dad."

Mozzie put a hand on Neal's arm and stopped. "Your **Dad**? I thought he was dead?"

Neal nodded. "He's alive, Moz. My father is alive and well and apparently has been watching me for years!"

"And Stephanie knew all this?" Mozzie asked.

"Not only did she know," Neal explained, "she was helping him. Her Dad and my Dad were partners with the NYPD, walking the Hell's Kitchen beat together thirty years ago."

"Whoa!" Mozzie exclaimed. "How did you not know this?"

"His files were sealed, remember? I have never been able to find out anything more than what my Mom told me when I was growing up," Neal said.

"So his supposed death was all staged?" Mozzie asked.

"Yep," Neal replied.

"So where has he been all these years?" Mozzie asked.

"Apparently busy making sure I met all the right people," Neal replied and saw Mozzie's confused look. "Long story short, June, Cindy, Stephanie and my Dad all worked together and switched the art in that warehouse by the pier and put it into the store room, then left me the note with the key to find it."

"And what was he expecting you to do with the art?" Mozzie asked.

"I think he wants us to run away together with it," Neal replied. "And by 'us' I mean him and me."

"Naturally," Mozzie said with mild disappointment in his voice. "So, have you talked to him yet?" Mozzie asked. Neal shook his head. "Are you going to?"

"I don't know," Neal answered.

"What do you mean you don't know? Neal, this is the dream, man! It's a billion dollars worth of art! You can do anything you want, live wherever you want, be whoever you want! No more being tethered to the Feds. No more cons. You can put your feet up, live on an island where it's sunny everyday."

Neal did not reply.

"I sense your hesitation," Mozzie said. "Is it Stephanie? Peter? Dare I say it…me?"

Neal resumed walking.

"Moz, do you remember the first time you met Peter?" Neal asked.

"Of course! I have perfect recall," Mozzie replied.

"Remember what you said to him about why we do what we do?" Neal asked. "It's not about the money, Moz."

"Not living by anyone's rules," Mozzie added.

"The long con was your dream," Neal said.

"It was yours, too," Mozzie corrected.

"Dreams change," Neal replied.

"So what are you going to do?" Mozzie asked. When there was no answer from Neal, Mozzie continued, "Do you think your Dad would believe me if I told him I was you?"

That brought a laugh from Neal. "Somehow I don't think even you could fool him on that."

"What does Secret Suit think you should do?" Mozzie asked.

"She said I have to choose," Neal said.

"I hate to agree with her but you know she's right," Mozzie said. "And you know you have to do it before the Suit finds out – that is, unless you plan to tell him."

When Neal did not answer further, Mozzie asked, "**If** you were to decide to talk to your Dad, how would you contact him?"

"Stephanie gave me a number," Neal replied.

"Can I assume Caffrey senior has access to the art?" Mozzie asked.

"I believe so," Neal answered.

"So he must be the one who asked Hale to fence the Degas," Mozzie said.

"That would be a safe guess," Neal said.

"If he's liquidating the loot now then he must be getting ready to run," Mozzie said.

"Also a safe guess," Neal replied.

"Neal, if he keeps selling more art from that collection, it won't be long before the Suits tie them together as art from the sub. Does Peter still suspect you?"

"He said he can't tie me to the explosion at the warehouse but he wasn't convinced I was completely innocent of the switch and he still believes the art didn't burn," Neal replied.

"So we need to make sure Peter doesn't have any evidence that could potentially tie you back to the art or to prove that anything new being fenced on the market came from the sub," Mozzie said.

"I know," Neal said. "I just haven't figured out how."

"Can Stephanie find out? Peter trusts her," Mozzie suggested.

"I can't put her at risk in this," Neal said.

"Neal, you said yourself that she had **everything** to do with **all **of this beautiful mess you find yourself in. She's been in cahoots with your Dad for years. **You** wouldn't be putting her at risk – she's already been in this deeper than you. You need to know what Peter knows, and you need to find out fast," Mozzie said. "It's either that, or you call your Dad and you leave right now and never look back."

* * *

><p>Diana stood at Peter's door and waited till her boss looked up from his paperwork and gestured for her to enter his office.<p>

"Close the door," Peter instructed. Diana did so. "Sit down."

"Boss, who was that?" Diana asked, referring to the woman who had just left his office.

"That," Peter began, "was Agent Melissa Matthews from the Art Crimes Division in D.C."

"Oh?" Diana replied. "Is she here about the missing art from the sub?"

"Yes. She works for my former boss, Kramer. I called him to ask for his help tracking any potential matches to our partial manifest from the sub," Peter explained. "I don't expect them to be popping up en masse but if they do start to appear, we can be pretty sure they won't just be hitting New York. That's why we need extra eyes and ears to keep a lookout."

"Have they heard increased chatter about new art floating around?" Diana asked.

"Not yet," Peter replied. "It's been a few weeks now. Our thieves are holding out for something and we need to figure out what."

"Do you still think Caffrey had something to do with it?" Diana asked.

"I've been monitoring his tracking anklet, like I always do, and there have been no unusual movements since the fire at the warehouse," Peter replied. "So, if he does have the art, he's either got it hidden in his apartment, or he's got someone else looking after it to make sure it's still there."

"What makes you say that?"

"If you had a billion dollars worth of art, would you just let it sit in a warehouse somewhere unguarded?" Peter asked.

"You think Mozzie has it?"

"I think he might at least know where it is," Peter replied.

"Do you want to put a tail on him?" Diana asked.

"Mr Conspiracy? No, he thinks someone is tailing him even when no one is," Peter said.

"So, what do we do?" Diana asked.

"For now, we wait. I've given a copy of the manifest to Agent Matthews to take back to DC. They'll keep us posted if anything comes across their radar," Peter replied. "In the meantime," Peter added, handing over the original manifest, "I need you to translate this. Do it at home. Don't leave any trails – not on your computer, not on paper, don't print anything out, and don't leave anything lying around."

"Don't worry, Boss," Diana said. "I'll sit down with a cup of tea and a German dictionary and get this done in a couple of hours."

"Good. Keep me posted."

* * *

><p>"Are those bags under your eyes, Neal?" Peter teased as he leant over to inspect Neal's face closely when he picked him up the next morning.<p>

"Can I have some personal space, please, Agent Burke?" Neal protested as he pushed Peter away.

"You're supposed to be a model. You can't have bags under your eyes," Peter teased as he settled back into the driver's seat and started to drive.

"Just what kind of model am I supposed to be if nobody has seen my face on anything other than some Wanted posters?" Neal asked.

"You're modelling accessories," Peter replied. "They don't need to have seen your face. Sorry buddy, but they're only interested in you for your body." Peter tried to stifle a laugh.

"OK, please wipe that stupid grin off your face, Peter," Neal said. "Does this fall within the workplace sexual harassment guidelines? Does the FBI have a Human Resources department I can file a complaint to?"

"Oh, you want to complain about me? Guess where you'll end up if I'm removed as your handler?" Peter asked.

"Wow, and now sexual harassment has turned into a threat to send me back to prison," Neal said. "I'm sure you can crack this case without me."

"Oh, look, stop sulking, Caffrey," Peter said. "Listen, I'm sorry for teasing you. Where's your sense of humour disappeared to this morning? Cranky that Stephanie hasn't called since she left?"

"Not everything is about Stephanie," Neal replied. "So what's the plan for today?" Neal asked as he changed the subject.

"Well, the plan is that you will strike some poses while I talk to some of the staff, especially Katelyn Parson. She's the founder and senior fashion editor for _Bon Chance_ magazine for the past twenty years," Peter said.

"She was named one of the top ten fashion editors by the International Fashion Council for a few years not that long ago," Neal said.

Peter gave him a look and thought to himself: of course Caffrey would know even something as trivial as this. But then again, what seemed trivial to him was probably what made Caffrey one of the best conmen in the world before he was arrested. Heck, he probably spent his four years in prison doing nothing but studying potential marks.

"Yes, she was – from 2004 to 2009, as a matter of fact," Peter continued. "Since then, the fashion industry had been hit pretty hard by the global financial crisis and most print magazines, including _Bon Chance_, lost a lot of advertising dollars. It's been struggling for a number of years so she's our prime suspect."

"What about the others?" Neal asked.

"Nothing that particularly stands out yet," Peter replied. "The photographer's assistant's background is a little patchy though. Diana and Jones are still trying to find out about her. She seems to have popped out of nowhere a few years ago so she probably changed her name. We should have more by the time we get back to the office."

Neal and Peter rode on in silence for the remainder of the trip to the photography studio.

"You're late!" a voice barked at Neal and Peter as they exited the elevator at the studio. Music was blaring from a distant room. They soon saw the woman behind the bark. Peter put her somewhere in her early-20s – a tall, skinny, bleached-blonde in heels that added an extra six inches to her already tall frame. Peter and Neal looked at each other, and then back at the woman, who continued yelling at them.

"When we say call time is 7.15am sharp, we **mean** 7.15 sharp. Mr Lamoray doesn't like to be kept waiting! I honestly don't know why Lena and Carol wanted to pick a model we've never worked with before! Manhattan is filled with experienced models and they want us to use some amateur who can't even read the time. Well, don't just stand there! We don't have all day! Come!" The woman spoke rapidly without taking a breath between sentences.

Neal and Peter quickly followed her as she turned around and headed back to where she had come from.

They saw flashes coming from another room which they assumed to be camera flashes. A man with his back to them, probably in his mid-40s, was taking photographs of a heavily-made-up, heavily bejewelled woman, naked but for the feather boa draped strategically around her neck, straddling a chair backwards. She continued to offer some pouts and poses at the camera as the photographer snapped away.

"Why was she yelling at us about being late if they're not even ready for us?" Neal spoke into Peter's ear so as to be heard above the music whilst making sure the woman they were following could not hear him. Peter merely shrugged in response; as if afraid any sound he made would be greeted with more yelling from the woman.

"Hair, make-up, in there!" the woman barked at Neal as she looked him up and down, then added, horrified, "are those **bags** under your eyes?"

Despite having made a similar comment earlier and carrying a gun, Peter dared not laugh. For some reason, this woman terrified him more than he ever imagined possible.

Before Neal could answer, the woman yelled as she pushed Neal into what he assumed was the make-up room, "CLAIRE! OH MY GOD! You've got your work cut out for you darling!"

Peter followed.

The woman whom they presumed to be Claire turned towards the door at the sound of her name being called. She grabbed Neal by his elbows, pushed him into the make-up chair and immediately pushed her face close to his to inspect every minute detail.

The first woman stood behind Claire with her arms crossed across her chest. She looked as if her head would burst with fury. As Claire continued to inspect Neal's face, the first woman suddenly looked up at Peter, "And what kind of manager do you call yourself to let your model turn up to a photo shoot with **bags** under his eyes?" Her emphasis on the word "bags" sent shivers up Peter's spine each time she said it.

Claire continued to poke and prod at Neal's face – she seemed to be inspecting each pore and stubble on his face at close range. She held his chin with one hand and turned his head roughly one way, then the other, before finally straightening up again and announcing, "He's not a completely lost cause, Scarlett."

The first woman, now known to the men as Scarlett, breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Oh, you're a darling, Claire! Can you get him ready in half an hour?"

Claire turned to Scarlett and said, "I've done more with less."

"Great!" Scarlett said. "Send him out when you're done," she added in a sing-song voice, much relieved by the news that Neal would be presentable soon. She marched back out of the make-up room, the click-clack of her heels muffled by the blaring music outside.

With Scarlett gone, Claire turned her attention back to Neal and commanded, "Now strip."

Peter's jaw dropped slightly with surprise.

"Excuse me?" Neal replied.

"You heard me," Claire said.

"You're not going to buy me a drink first?" Neal joked with his usual charm.

"Are you deaf?" Claire asked. Neal shook his head. "So, which part of my instruction did you not understand?"

When Neal remained seated and fully-clothed, Claire explained in an exasperated tone, "You're a body model. You are modelling accessories, not clothes; therefore, you won't be wearing any. I'm a make-up artist, which means I need to make sure your face **and **your body are flawless for the camera, and I can't do that if you've got your clothes on, can I?"

A still-shocked Neal shook his head again.

"Do we have a problem? Do I need to speak with Randy or Katelyn about this?" Claire asked Peter, who simply shook his head. "So, strip!" Claire turned back to look at Neal and commanded again.

Neal stood up from his seat slowly and looked hesitantly at Peter, mouthing "HELP!" but the FBI agent merely shrugged and gave Neal a reassuring thumbs-up and a wink as he attempted to hold back a laugh.

Neal looked back at Claire, who was now standing with her arms crossed, drumming her fingers on her arms as she glared at him impatiently. "You heard Scarlett. Randy Lamoray is a very busy man. We haven't got all day!"

Neal kicked off his shoes and removed his tie as he attempted to start a conversation. "So, Claire," he began as he looked around for somewhere to hang his clothes. Not finding what he was after, and with Claire not offering any help, he started handing his clothes to Peter, much to his annoyance. "Claire," Neal started again, "how long have you been working for Mr Lamoray?"

"Long enough," Claire replied. "And if you don't strip any faster, I'm going to come do it myself," she threatened. "The rate you're going, I'm going to end my career watching you take your clothes off."

"Going out on a high?" Neal said with the most charming smile he could muster.

"You're not the first pretty boy to come in here thinking you're God's gift to women," Claire replied. Then she stepped right up to Neal till her mouth was almost touching his ear and added, "and if you don't hurry up, I'm going to make sure your friend over there and I are the last ones to see what you're made of." She stepped back, then said, "You have sixty seconds."

At this, Neal began to remove his three-piece suit with the speed of a man on fire.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Disembarking from her private jet, Stephanie got into her awaiting car and proceeded to drive herself to her Washington apartment, one of many that the Harper family owned around the country. She disliked hotels, no matter how luxurious they were.

Once she was inside her apartment, she checked in with her assistant in New York for messages, then freshened up and headed out for her meeting at the _El Castillo_ next to the Federal Plaza with Senator McDonald.

The Senator was already waiting at their outdoor table when Stephanie arrived.

"Mrs Harper," the Senator stood from his seat and greeted Stephanie with great enthusiasm like a typical politician.

"Senator," Stephanie returned the smile and shook the hand that had been extended. The Senator sat as she also sat.

"I have to say, Mrs Harper, it was such a lovely surprise when your assistant called my office to arrange this meeting," the Senator began. "It has been a while since your last visit."

"As you can imagine, with my husband no longer with us, I have a lot of extra responsibilities with the Harper Group," Stephanie began. "As much as I try to delegate there are obviously a lot of things I still need to take care of personally. If there's one thing Ryan has taught me, it's that time is precious and we have to give back to our community whatever we can."

"I couldn't agree more," the Senator said. "The American people are very fortunate to benefit from your philanthropy."

Stephanie offered a smile, but beneath that smile was so much contempt for the sycophantic words she knew were coming out of this man's mouth while he could not wait to get his hands on her money.

"I won't beat around the bush, Senator," she said. "The Harper Foundation is pledging $2million to fund the arts program for underprivileged children in New Orleans and another five to complete the rebuilding of the Arts Centre. Ryan and I loved vacationing in that city and I can't believe how slow the rebuilding process has been since Hurricane Katrina. I'm keen to help bring the music back, so to speak."

The Senator's jaw dropped with excitement. As he muttered words of gratitude, Stephanie looked across the road just in time to catch sight of Agent Kramer as he headed out of the FBI building. This was the real reason she had travelled to Washington.

The Senator continued to talk while Stephanie nodded, pretending to hear, but all the while, wondering what the FBI agent might already know of the treasure she had hidden in New York.

* * *

><p>"How'd our boy do?" Jones asked as Peter walked through the bullpen and headed to the kitchen. Jones and Diana followed.<p>

"I don't think I will ever look at magazine ads the same way again," Peter commented as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "A word of advice when you see Caffrey next, don't ask him where a tie clip goes when there's no tie or shirt."

"What does that mean?" Diana looked at Jones, then at Peter but received no further explanation.

"Have you found anything useful on any of our suspects?" Peter asked as he headed up to his office with Diana and Jones in tow.

"Randy Lamoray – photographer-of-choice for the magazine for their featured advertising," Jones began. "He seems to have some clout with a lot of the major magazines because he's managed to keep the jobs coming despite a few complaints for sexual harassment. He was busted for cocaine possession at a party six months ago but the judge let him off on probation. He has a list of minor offences but nothing to indicate he could be dangerous and his financial records are pretty clean – nothing that would give him motive for blackmail."

"What about his assistant, Scarlett, or the makeup artist, Claire? Both seem to have been working for Lamoray for a while," Peter asked.

"Scarlett Wittner, real name: Susan Cunningham," Diana replied. "Changed her name six years ago when she started working for Lamoray – that's why we couldn't find much on her before; came to New York City eight years ago when she was fifteen to become a model. She managed to score a few little odd jobs here and there but her big break never came so she started to reinvent herself, starting with a name change, followed by a number of cosmetic surgeries."

"No wonder she was so angry all the time. The surgeon probably pulled out her funny bone to make way for the breast implants," Peter said. "How did an out-of-work teenage 'wannabe' model afford plastic surgery?" he asked.

"We were able to find old financial records for Susan Cunningham and found a large payment to her from a Dan McAllister eight years ago," Diana replied.

"Who's McAllister?" Peter asked.

"It turns out McAllister is a film producer – of adult films," Jones replied.

"And he didn't just like working behind the scenes, he liked to star in them, too, and none of them shot with a crew," Diana added.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "She was underage at the time?"

"Yep," Jones replied.

"Does McAllister have a record?" Peter asked.

"No," Jones replied. "We went through his bank records as far back as ten years ago and it looks like he's made similar payments to a lot of people over that period."

"Hand over whatever you've found to NYPD," Peter instructed. "That's a police matter now." Jones nodded.

"I don't think Scarlett is our blackmailer, Boss," Diana said. "There's nothing else to indicate she's anything other than a celebrity-seeker wanting to become rich and famous, not rich and in prison."

"I agree. What about the others?" Peter continued.

"Claire Richards – Lamoray's makeup artist and stylist since 1995," Jones continued. "They met a few years before that when she was working at the Estee Lauder counter at Macy's, hung out with pretty much the same party crowd and got Lamoray his first paid gig taking photos for a friend's band for their posters. They decided to team up after a few similar jobs and Claire quit her job at Macy's."

"Claire Richards' career took off with Lamoray's," Diana took over. "Looks like they have been having an on-and-off affair for much of the past decade. We've found tabloid reports of their very public fights but none of that gives them any motives to want or need to blackmail anyone. Their financial records are pretty clean."

"Did you get anything from the editor?" Jones asked.

"Katelyn Parson," Peter said. "She was watching the photo shoot like a hawk. I'm not sure that woman even took a bathroom break for the whole ten hours we were there. I tried to start up a conversation with her but the only thing she said to me was to talk to her assistant about getting the number of her beautician for Neal."

"A beautician?" Jones asked.

"Waxing," Peter said with another _'don't ask'_ look.

"Caffrey needs man-scaping?" Jones choked back a laugh.

"You mean there is someone else who doesn't believe that Caffrey is perfect the way he is?" Diana said as she struggled to get the image of Neal getting waxed out of her mind.

"Wow! How'd Caffrey take that kind of criticism?" Jones asked, still laughing.

"Not too well," Peter said to Jones. He turned back to Diana and asked, "What else did you find out about Parson?"

"She's worked for Vogue and Harper's Bazaar in Paris before returning States-side to start _Bon Chance_," Diana resumed her update. "You already know about some of her awards and successes from that magazine."

"You said she had been losing advertising dollars?" Peter asked.

"Not only that. She's been borrowing heavily to keep the magazine afloat, but this spread for Saks and the Verone & Sassia collection was going to bring her some serious dollars," Diana said. "Saks is paying for a fifteen-page advertising special including an advertorial on the collection and the designers, and as a special deal, Saks is also going to sell this issue of _Bon Chance_ in-store as part of the deal. It's big money, Boss. She's got a lot riding on the success of this collection."

"OK, get me more on Parson's past and current business associates," Peter instructed his agents. "Anyone at all that she's worked with, considered working with or is working with. I want to know any history of lawsuits, bankruptcies, or threats of them. She may have a lot riding on the success of this collection but maybe she needs the cash quicker than it's coming in. My gut tells me there's more to her that she would never tell us."

As Jones left Peter's office to get started on Peter's instructions, Diana hung back. "Boss, here's the translation you asked me to do yesterday," she said as she handed back the original manifest to Peter along with its translation."

Peter looked at the list.

"You think our thieves will start moving these soon?" Diana asked.

"Nobody knew about this treasure until recently," Peter said. "My guess is none of this has been moved yet because whoever took it didn't know what to do with it. But I think enough time has passed. Let's hope our thief starts getting impatient and we'll see something on the market soon."

* * *

><p>"How was your first day in the glamorous world of modelling?" Elizabeth asked Neal as he joined the Burkes at their kitchen while she prepared dinner.<p>

"I spent the last two hours scrubbing off the layers of dirt and mud they put on my body, "Neal protested. "You know how when you go to the beach and it's all great until you go home and you find sand in places where you didn't think were possible for sand to go?" Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "Well, this was like that, except it was messier."

"Stop being such a baby," Peter said, still trying to suppress the fun he was having at Neal's expense. "You tracked mud into my car, too, which you're going to have to clean up, by the way. I've heard nothing but whining from you all the way back to your house. I didn't see you complaining when Claire had her hands all over your body."

Neal gave a slight smile at the memory. "She did have a pretty good touch."

"See, working for the FBI does have its perks," Elizabeth smiled.

"Well, I could think of better places for her to put her hands…" Neal began.

"Enough," Peter said to Neal, then turned to his wife and said, "I will never understand modelling."

"What is there to understand? You pretty much leave any sense of self-consciousness at the door and do whatever you're told, and let complete strangers poke and prod you," Neal replied.

"OK, so has all this poking and prodding given you a better idea of who might be behind the blackmail attempt?" El asked.

"They're not the friendliest bunch of people in town, that's for sure," Neal replied.

"I thought you knew a lot of models?" Elizabeth said. "Remember that rooftop party we had when you were trying to catch Ghovat a couple years back?"

"Partying with them is different from being one of them," Neal replied.

"Their operations looked legit," Peter interrupted. "Everything in the shopfront looked very professional. Jones and Diana have been doing some digging and we think the magazine editor might have the best motive for the blackmail. The magazine's been losing a lot of money lately and she owns a big stake in the company. We just need more proof to see how to connect her to all this."

"If the blackmailer is threatening to reproduce cheap copies of the collection, then he or she must have connections to a factory of some kind to mass produce this quickly and cheaply, right?" Elizabeth suggested.

Peter smiled broadly at his wife, gave her a kiss on the cheek, turned to Neal and said, "and that is just one of the many reasons I married this woman. Beautiful **and** smart!"

Neal's phone rang in his pocket. He took it out, looked at the caller ID, pressed "reject" and put it back in his pocket. Peter and Elizabeth exchanged looks. "So what's next?" Neal asked. "Am I going to need to go back for another photo shoot?"

"I think you're safe for now, Fabio," Peter said, to which Neal pulled a face. "Let's see what Jones and Diana come up with tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Back at her Washington apartment, Stephanie returned her work calls, and tried calling Neal again. Still no answer. She was beginning to worry. Her calls to Caffrey senior yielded the same results.<p>

There was a knock on her door. A look at the security monitor showed it was the concierge. She opened the door.

"Good evening, Mrs Harper," the concierge greeted. "These just arrived for you, ma'am," he said as he handed a large bouquet of flowers to her.

"Thank you, John," Stephanie took the flowers.

"Have a good night, Mrs Harper," John added and turned to return to his post.

Stephanie took the bouquet into the kitchen, found a vase for the flowers, then poured herself a drink. She carefully inspected the flowers before plucking a tiny bud from the arrangement. She took the bud and her drink out to the lounge, put her feet up as she turned on her laptop. She tugged at the bottom of the bud to reveal a USB flash drive and inserted it into the laptop.

"Let's see what we've got here,' Stephanie said to herself.

She browsed through the contents containing copies of email correspondence between Agent Kramer and his protégé, Melissa Matthews; travel itinerary for Matthews from Dulles to JFK and her hotel reservations for New York City; photos of her entering and exiting the FBI Building in New York carrying an attaché case. Stephanie wished there was an x-ray photo to see the contents of that case.

There was a copy of Agent Matthews' personnel file – an art history major with a sub-major in criminology in college, reasonable grades at Quantico – probably more book-smart than street-smart, but Stephanie did not want to underestimate any member of Kramer's team. After all, he was Peter's mentor, and he would not have sent just anybody to New York to meet with Peter.

There was an audio file on the flash drive. It began to play back a conversation between Kramer and Matthews.

_Kramer: How did your meeting go?_

_Matthews: I explained to Agent Burke that you were not able to come to New York and that you had briefed me on his suspicions about the U-boat treasure not burning up in that warehouse. He told me the ERT recovered some remnants of paintings from the fire as well as what appears to be a partial manifest of the contents of the sub._

_Kramer: You have the manifest?_

_Matthews: Yes, sir. He gave me a copy of it so that we can put a BOLO on anything that might be on this list popping up anywhere in the world._

_Kramer: Has he got any other proof that the paintings they found in the warehouse were forgeries?_

_Matthews: Unfortunately, they weren't able to find anything usable to test with. All they've been able to test for was how the fire was started._

_Kramer: The TNT from the sub?_

_Matthews: Yes, sir, as far as forensics can tell, the explosives date back to WWII – definitely nothing available on the market today._

_Kramer: When are you coming back?_

_Matthews: I'll be back in DC tomorrow afternoon._

_Kramer: Good. Do not let that manifest out of your sight._

_Matthews: Don't worry, sir, it's in a safe place._

_Kramer: Come straight in when you land. I'll be waiting._

_Matthews: Yes, sir._

Stephanie replayed the conversation two more times.

"Oh Nicholas," she said aloud to an empty room. "Look what you've done."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"We have a problem," Mozzie said as Neal returned home after dinner with the Burkes.

"I really wish that just once, I could walk into my own home, and be greeted by someone other than you, drinking my wine and giving me bad news," Neal replied, exasperated and tired.

"Well, if you would just answer the phone when the Secret Suit calls you, then **I** wouldn't be the one to have to be the bearer of bad news," Mozzie replied, taking a seat at the table.

"Stephanie called you?" Neal asked as he poured himself a glass and joined Mozzie at the table. "What did she want?"

"It's not so much what she wants as what you need to know," Mozzie replied.

"Spill it, Moz," Neal said.

"Your Suit hasn't been completely open with you," Mozzie began. "He may not have found anything from the warehouse to prove the art didn't burn but apparently the Evidence Recovery Team managed to salvage a piece of paper that looks like a partial manifest from the U-boat!"

"A partial manifest?" Neal repeated. "So the Degas that Hale fenced could have been on that list!"

"My thoughts exactly!" Mozzie replied.

"What else did Stephanie tell you?" Neal asked.

"You know, I really hate being caught in the middle of your lovers' quarrel," Mozzie said. Neal gave his friend a look. "She said Peter has asked the DC Art Crimes unit to help track the black market for anything that might be on the list."

"DC Art Crimes," Neal contemplated this for a brief moment. "That's where Peter worked when he first graduated from Quantico. He's asking his old boss for help?"

"Apparently not only that, but DC came to New York yesterday and left with a copy of the manifest," Mozzie said.

"Do we know what's on the list?" Neal asked.

"That, my friend, is as much information as Stephanie was able to gather," Mozzie replied.

"How did she know this?" Neal asked.

"What are you looking at me for?" Mozzie replied. "I would never ask someone to divulge their sources. Besides, I'm just the messenger here. If you want to know more, you're going to have to talk to her yourself."

Neal downed the remains of his glass and was deep in thought but did not say anything.

"We need to find out what is on that manifest, Moz. I'm sure it won't be long before the FBI find out a long-lost Degas has just been fenced and if that painting is on the list, it will prove to Peter that the art didn't burn at the pier. And you know what that means," Neal said.

"As I said, we have a problem," Mozzie replied. "What do you propose?"

"Peter wouldn't have just handed the case over to DC. He must have a copy of that manifest. I need to take a look at it and find out what's on it," Neal said.

"Where do you think he would keep it?" Mozzie asked.

"It has to be in the office or in his home," Neal replied.

"Don't forget Lady Suit," Mozzie added.

"Diana?" Neal asked.

"Remember she had the music box when it mysteriously turned into an average-looking wooden box in the FBI evidence room," Mozzie reminded him.

"You're right," Neal agreed. "She will have upgraded security at her place since Alex broke in to steal the music box. Let me work on Peter and Diana tomorrow. In the meantime, keep an ear out for any increased chatter on the street from the FBI."

"I hope Caffrey senior is happy with the mess he's made," Mozzie said.

* * *

><p>"I enjoyed dinner last night," Neal said to Peter as they went for coffee before heading up to the office. "You're a very lucky man to have Elizabeth to go home to every night, Peter."<p>

Peter smiled. "It was nice," he agreed. "She is the reason I do what I do to make sure I get home to her every night."

They ordered and waited for their coffees.

"Why are you not taking Stephanie's calls? Did you two have a fight?" Peter asked as he paid for the coffees and continued on their way.

"What makes you say that?" Neal asked.

"Because you look like you haven't been sleeping and you're sulky all the time like I've never seen before," Peter said.

"I'm not sulky," Neal said defensively.

"And you're defensive every time I mention Stephanie, ," Peter said.

"Look, Peter, I appreciate you caring about my love life, but Stephanie and I are in a complicated position," Neal said. "She is one of the wealthiest women in the country. Plus she is a recent widow. How will it look for her to be seen with a convicted criminal? Not to mention I'm working for the FBI and if my face starts appearing in the tabloids how can I still go undercover?"

"Seems to me like you have spent a lot of time thinking of reasons you shouldn't be together," Peter said.

"I'm trying to do the right thing by her," Neal said.

"Does she know that?" Peter asked.

"We haven't really talked about it," Neal admitted.

"Maybe you should start by answering her calls," Peter said.

"Maybe we should focus on wrapping up this case," Neal replied.

* * *

><p>Jones met Peter and Neal at the door as they were about to enter. "Peter, I think we've found a possible connection to Katelyn Parson."<p>

Diana had been on the phone but quickly hung up and joined the trio. She began talking as they continued walking up to Peter's office. "I've had a call from our Chinatown team. They've been monitoring the usual suspects for any activities of illegal smuggling of fake goods and noticed one of them received an unusual shipment two days ago."

"How unusual?" Peter asked.

"It was a truckload of dolls," Jones replied.

"Dolls?" Neal asked.

"The team had been monitoring this woman for smuggling tobacco so when a truckload of toys arrived they became suspicious," Jones said. "They called us because they thought this might be more our territory."

"Wait till you see what these dolls look like," Diana added as she placed some photos in front of Peter and Neal. "Anything look familiar to you?"

Neal leaned over Peter's shoulder for a closer look. The first was a picture of a male doll wearing a suit accessorised with cuff-links and tie-bar. The second photo was of a female doll wearing a two-tiered tiara, with matching necklace, and a pearl belt with a large buckle.

"They're from the Verone & Sassia collection," Neal said. "The tiara looks like it breaks up into a pair of earrings, the necklace is the ring, the belt buckle is a brooch and the belt itself is the bracelet. That's genius!"

"What do we know about this woman?" Peter asked.

"Her name is Lee Fung Ning," Diana replied. "People call her Suzy. Second generation American Chinese. She owns a shop that sells incense sticks in Brooklyn – that's how they think she's smuggling tobacco, and a costume jewellery store next door that sells lots of fake bling. Her record is clean although she's been on our watch list for a while."

"How convenient," Neal commented.

"So there's a surveillance team on her already?" Peter asked.

"Not actively although there are cameras around," Jones replied.

"Do we know if the dolls have been moved at all since they arrived?" Neal asked.

"Not as far as we can tell," Diana answered.

"Jones, check with the Chinatown team to see if there's any footage of Katelyn Parson going anywhere near Lee's shop. Start with the last few days. Diana, see if you can find any connection between Parson and Lee. Let's set up our own surveillance on Lee's shops in case she moves the dolls or their accessories. I want to know who goes in and out of those shops," Peter instructed. "I doubt they would be moving them anywhere now but I'm pretty sure if the replicas have already been made, then even if Lena and Carol paid off the blackmailer, they would still find the fakes all over town."

"What are we going to do?" Neal asked.

"I think El might like some new pearls and maybe you should get Stephanie a homecoming gift for when she comes home from her business trip?" Peter smiled.

"Let's go shopping," Neal smiled.

* * *

><p>Despite being a regular visitor to DC, Stephanie had never spent much time seeing the sights as a regular tourist to the nation's capital might. She decided it was time she checked out Washington to take her mind off what she now calls "The Caffrey Problem" – father and son both giving her a headache for different reasons.<p>

The U-boat manifest was in DC but she could not just ask for it. Nobody here knew she was FBI and she could not risk breaking cover on the highly-remote chance she would find the list lying around on Kramer's desk.

She had not heard from Neal or Mozzie since she gave them the message about the manifest. She hoped they were not going to do anything stupid.

By the time she returned to her apartment late in the afternoon, there was another present waiting for her at the front desk. Her source had not let her down.

"This painting arrived for you just after lunch, Mrs Harper," John, the concierge, said. "Your friends must be happy to hear you're in town."

"More like the politicians' campaign managers doing their best to try and get their grubby hands on my money," Stephanie smiled.

When she was inside her apartment, Stephanie removed the panel at the back of the frame. There was a piece of paper lightly attached to the back of the painting. She tore it off and turned it over. It was a copy of the manifest.

Stephanie quickly glanced down the list. It was in German but she had no trouble translating it. She caught her breath when she saw Degas' "Entrance of the Masked Dancers" halfway down the page.

"Oh Nicholas, now we really have a problem."

* * *

><p>"How can I help you gentlemen?" the woman at the counter asked as Neal and Peter walked into the jewellery store owned by Lee Fung Ning. Neal looked around the small store while Peter walked up to the large counter where Lee was seated. Peter took note of the computer and the cash register where she sat.<p>

"My friend here," Peter said as he pointed to Neal, "is looking for an engagement ring for his girlfriend." Neal glared at Peter, who returned his glare with a smile.

Lee looked at the men up and down. Peter continued, "Oh, I know what you're thinking: is he so cheap as to propose with costume jewellery?" Lee smiled. "He's a little gun-shy so I told him to treat this like a practice run so he has a better idea when it's time to get the real thing."

"I see," Lee said. "Is there any particular kind of ring you've got in mind, Mister…"

"Halden," Neal replied. "And I don't really know. I'm kind of new to this whole proposal thing. That's why I brought my friend here. He's been married five times."

Peter's smile quickly turned into a frown. It was Neal's turn to smile. "The ladies just can't get enough of him."

"Well, buddy, my tip for you is size matters," Peter said to Neal.

Neal replied, "I imagine it does." Neal turned back to Lee, "I'll have a look at your biggest rocks, please Miss…"

"You can call me Suzy," Lee replied. She brought out a tray of rings.

Neal picked up a couple of them and closely inspected them. As he replaced them on the tray, he said, "Wow, they look pretty real to me."

"We take pride in using the best crystals and cubic zirconia so they look as bright and sparkly as the real thing," Suzy said with a big smile.

"Do you make to order?" Neal asked.

"We have a jeweller who can make anything according to your own design if you wish," Suzy replied.

"Really?" Peter said, impressed. "If I had known about your shop I could have saved a lot of money with all of my ex-wives."

"Indeed!" Suzy exclaimed. "And just out of curiosity, how did you hear about us?"

"I met someone the other day who works for _Bon Chance_ magazine – you know, the fashion magazine – and she told me that she was given a bracelet for her birthday from here," Peter explained.

Suzy's face twitched slightly, but only very briefly, at the mention of _Bon Chance_. "Oh yes, a lot of stylists use costume jewellery when they do photo shoots and the like," she said. Lee quickly tried to change the subject, "So, Mr Halden, is there anything that caught your eye for now?"

"If I were to bring my own design, how long would it take to have it ready?" Neal asked.

"It depends on how complex the design is, and what kind of materials you would like, of course," Suzy answered. "But it would probably only take a day or two. Our jeweller can work very fast."

Neal turned to Peter and said, "You know, I really love that ring you bought Diana – that's his fourth wife," Neal explained to Suzy. "Do you think she'd mind if I copied it? I mean, she obviously didn't care much for it after she threw it at you in divorce court."

"Um, er, sure," Peter replied.

"Well, Suzy, we will come back with the ring for you to copy tomorrow," Neal said.

"I will see you then, Mr Halden," Suzy said as she walked them out the door.

Once outside, Peter said, "Five wives?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Peter," Neal said. "You could be very popular with the ladies, if you'd bothered to let loose once in a while."

"I'm happily married. It means I don't have to let loose – ever," Peter replied.

"How did you ever get Elizabeth to fall in love with you with that attitude?" Neal asked.

"She fell in love with my honest smile," Peter replied.

* * *

><p>"You know, you really should start answering your phone when your girlfriend calls," Mozzie said when Neal finally returned his call.<p>

"I was working, Moz. I couldn't exactly be talking to her about my Dad in front of Peter," Neal said. "What happened?"

"Whoever Stephanie's source is deserves some kind of award," Mozzie said.

"What is it, Moz? I have to get back to the office," Neal tried to get his friend to hurry along.

"She has a copy of the manifest and the Degas that your father sold is on it!" Mozzie said.

Neal's heart skipped a beat.

"Neal?" Mozzie said as he waited for Neal's response.

"We have a problem," Neal said.

"Do you think it's time to talk to your Dad now?" Mozzie asked.

"I think it's time to find out who Hale fenced it to and get it back before the Feds get their hands on it and trace it back to us," Neal replied.

"And your Dad?" Mozzie asked.

Neal hesitated. "Maybe."

* * *

><p>"How's Jones doing?" Peter asked Diana when he returned to the office.<p>

"Loving the van, as always," came the reply.

"Got anything more on Parson or Lee?" Peter asked.

"The Verone & Sassia spread is not the first time _Bon Chance_ have used Randy Lamoray. Claire Richards, Lamoray's stylist, has used accessories borrowed from Lee's shop on many occasions. Parson always demands final approval on everything with every photo shoot, so she has met Lee before," Diana reported.

"What do we have on the motive?" Peter asked.

"We finally got her banks to release all her financial records. In addition to all the personal assets she'd sold or taken second mortgages on, she also took out a bank bill to the value of four million on the magazine due at the end of the week. Add that to everything else she'd taken out loans on, that pretty much adds up to the five mill the blackmailer is asking for," Diana said.

"Great," Peter said. "Lee told us they have a jeweller who works for them who can custom-make anything to our own designs. It's most likely Parson showed this jeweller photos of Verone & Sassia's designs, they make a copy and then send it off somewhere for mass production and they come back in shipments on those dolls."

"So what's next, Boss?" Diana asked.

"Call Lena and Carol, ask to borrow one of their rings from the new collection. Neal and I told Lee we'd be back tomorrow with a ring we want to be copied. I want to see Lee's reaction when we show it to her," Peter said.

"On it, Boss," Diana answered and left to follow her instructions.

* * *

><p>"Good to see you back, Mr Halden," Suzy Lee greeted as Neal entered the small jewellery store. There were no other customers inside and she was seated behind one of the glass display cases looking at something on her computer.<p>

"Good morning Suzy," Neal returned the greeting. "I promised I'd be back, so here I am!" Neal offered a broad smile as he approached the counter where Suzy was.

"Your friend didn't come with you today?" Suzy asked.

"Oh, he'll be here soon. Trouble with the missus," Neal replied.

"Well, maybe he'll be in the market for some new jewellery as a make-up gift then?" Suzy offered.

"You know what, you might be right on the mark there," Neal replied.

"So did you bring the design you wanted us to make for you?" Suzy asked.

"Yes, I did," Neal replied as he took out a small box.

Across the road from the shop, Jones and Peter were in the surveillance van listening to and recording the conversation Neal was having with their suspect. They were also watching the exchange via Neal's tie-bar which doubled as a video camera.

As Lee opened the jewellery box, they saw her look of surprise and recognition when she saw its contents. She uttered an audible gasp which she quickly tried to cover up.

"Something wrong?" Neal feigned concern.

"Oh, no, no," Lee said defensively. "It's just so beautiful! I've never seen anything like it! Where did your friend get this?"

"I believe the maid of honour at his wedding to his fourth wife, the one he bought this ring for, was a designer and she designed it for them," Neal replied.

"Seems such a waste for his ex-wife to have thrown this back at him after they broke up!" Suzy exclaimed.

"You might not want to keep it either if you caught your husband in bed with the woman who designed this ring," Neal explained.

"Oh!" Suzy said with an understanding nod.

Inside the van, Peter watched on disapprovingly as his partner continued to present him as a womaniser while Jones tried to suppress a smile as he looked over to his boss.

"So, you think your jeweller can reproduce this for me?" Neal asked.

"It would not be a problem at all. As a matter of fact, we recently made a ring very similar to this for another customer," Suzy replied.

"Really? What are the chances?" Neal expressed slight surprise. "I would have thought this would be a one-of-a-kind design."

"The stone may be unique but the designs can always be replicated," Suzy said.

"When do you think you'll have the ring ready?" Neal asked.

"I assume you'd want our best quality zirconia for this ring?" Suzy asked.

"Nothing but the best for my girl," Neal replied.

"It might take a day to source the stone, then another couple of days to make, so let's just say three days, at least," Suzy answered. She began writing out a receipt in a cashier's book, "If you don't mind leaving me your details, I will give you a call when it's ready for you to pick up." She passed the book to Neal and watched as he completed the requisite information for her. She carefully tore the piece of paper out from the book, attached one side to the ring box that Neal had given her and giving the other side to Neal.

"Thank you, I'll look forward to your call," Neal said.

The two bade farewell and Neal walked outside. He crossed the road and opened the door to the surveillance van.

"Did you get all that?" Neal asked as he joined Peter and Jones in the cramped space inside.

"Yep," Jones replied. "That was a pretty smooth move you made planting the bug under the computer screen."

Neal took a bow, "I still got it."

"Whenever I see you do something like that, it always makes me glad you're on our side," Jones commented.

"When she opened the box, she looked like a deer caught in headlights," Peter said. "We've already got a tap on her phone so if my gut is right, she should be contacting our blackmailer right about now."

"Your gut is rarely wrong," Neal said.

Lee made a phone call even as they were talking about it. The three men in the van stopped talking to listen to the conversation.

_Lee: Who else have you told about the Verone & Sassia collection?_

_Parson: What are you talking about?_

_Lee: Two men came in to my shop yesterday looking at rings. One of them came back in today with a ring he wanted me to replicate._

_Parson: So? That's what you do, isn't it?_

_Lee: This one looked exactly like one of the designs you asked me to copy!_

_Parson: Who were these men?_

_Lee: I don't know – one of them said he was referred to my shop by someone who worked at your magazine._

_Parson: And you didn't find that suspicious?_

_Lee: Why? It wasn't the first time someone who had worked for you or the stylists you use had come in or referred someone else to come in to buy my stuff._

_Parson: We need to find out who these men are._

_Lee: Come to the store. I have the security tape. You can see if you recognise them._

_Parson: I'll be there in half an hour._

"Jones, get the team ready and surround every exit to make sure nothing and nobody gets out of that shop," Peter instructed.

Jones nodded and began issuing instructions on his walkie-talkies to the other team members.

Peter's phone rang. It was Diana: "Boss, Parson is on the move."

"She's on her way here," Peter replied. "Follow her in case she makes any pit stops."

"On it," Diana replied and ended the call.

About half an hour later, Jones, Peter and Neal watched as Katelyn Parson's car pulled up in front of Lee's store. She got out, not caring that she was illegally parked, and hurried inside.

"I've cued up the security tape to when the two men came in yesterday," Lee said to Parson.

"Never mind that," Parson said. "Where are the dolls? Let's move them now in case the cops are on to us."

They lost the audio from the bug after the women went to the back room.

"We're going in now!" Peter ordered and led the way out of the van with Jones and Neal following close behind.

The trio went through the front door while the other agents, led by Diana who had followed Parson to the store, entered the store from the rear entrance.

"FBI!" Peter declared as he flashed his badge. "I need you to stop what you're doing and put those dolls down!"

Lee and Parson looked up in surprise, caught as they were being helped by a couple of other workers rip the replica jewellery off the dolls which they were in the process of putting into a large sack.

"**You two**!" Parson said with surprise and almost disgust as she looked at Neal and Peter.

Neal gave her a big smile. "Good seeing you again, too!"

"I knew you couldn't be a model! Claire said you were the worst model she had ever worked with!" Parson said.

"Aw, well, she was no picnic either," Neal replied.

"That's enough chit-chat," Peter interrupted. He grabbed Katelyn's hands and put them behind her back. He clasped the handcuffs tightly and began to read her her Miranda rights, "Ms Katelyn Parson, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be used against you."

Similarly, Jones was going through the same process with Lee Fung Ning as Neal watched on. Another case closed, he thought to himself with a smile.

At that moment, Diana ran up to the trio as they were escorting the women into their FBI cars. "Boss!" she yelled.

"What's going on, Diana?" Peter asked when she had caught up with them.

"NYPD just called," she began.

Neal's phone started vibrating inside his jacket pocket. It was Mozzie: "Hey, chalk up another score on our winner's board, Moz," Neal said with a big grin on his face.

"Are you sitting down?" Mozzie asked seriously.

"What's going on?" Neal asked with concern.

"I'm afraid Hale's dead," Mozzie replied.

"What happened?" Neal turned towards Peter as the FBI agent headed towards him.

"Is the Suit with you?" Mozzie asked.

"Yeah," Neal said.

"I'm guessing he's about to tell you. I'll be expecting to see you shortly," Mozzie said and hung up.

"An elderly African American man was just found shot dead by the side of his car on a rooftop garage about thirty minutes ago," Peter reported. "I'm assuming you are familiar with what I'm telling you right now." It was a statement rather than a question from Peter.

Neal nodded. "His name was Hale. He was an old business associate of mine."

"Let's go," Peter said as the pair headed towards his car. "You can fill me in on the way."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Stephanie swiped her card and entered her security code into the keypad at her apartment door. There was a quiet beep and the door opened. Stephanie pulled her luggage inside and turned off the alarm.

With her housekeeper, Sofia, still away, the apartment was eerily quiet. Stephanie left her bags by the door and headed to the kitchen to put the kettle on. She opened the fridge, knowing she would not find much there since she had returned home earlier than expected. She picked up the phone in the kitchen to call her favourite Italian restaurant, _Vita Delizioso, _for a special delivery.

As she walked back towards the front door, she rubbed her neck with exhaustion, picked up her bags and headed to her bedroom.

Stephanie was still en route back to New York when she received a message from June that Hale had been found murdered on a rooftop parking lot the previous day. NYPD reported they did not recover any evidence as to the perpetrator until the FBI – Peter – showed up at the scene with Neal and Mozzie. It turned out the security camera Mozzie installed in Hale's "mobile office" captured Neal's old nemesis, Matthew Keller, pointing a gun at Hale. There was no audio on the camera but her guess was Keller was questioning him about the whereabouts of the stolen treasure. Hale had no knowledge of the location and paid the ultimate price.

Stephanie felt her entire body ache from exhaustion and the burden of all the secrets she had been carrying for so long. She was desperate for a hot bath and a massage, and against her better judgement, she knew she had missed Neal.

News of Hale's murder shook her to the core and she had nowhere to turn. Nicholas had gone off the grid and was unreachable. After thirty years in hiding, planning and plotting, she was quite certain he was not going to leave New York without his treasure or his son. Her only source of information was June and even she had not seen much of Neal since the revelation about her part in the "retrieval" of the U-boat treasure.

Stephanie had barely stepped inside her bedroom when someone came up behind her, put his left arm around her throat while with his right hand, held a gun to her head.

"Hello there, Mrs Harper," the man almost whispered into Stephanie's ear as he tightened his grip on her throat. "Now, I don't want to hurt you, so if you're a good girl and answer a couple of questions, I will be on my way and nobody gets hurt."

Stephanie dug her Louboutin stiletto heel into the foot of her attacker that caught him briefly off-guard. It was enough for him to loosen his hold on her throat. Stephanie head-butted him with the back of her head, then elbowed him in the ribs which temporarily winded him. She spun around and punched him in the face. While her attacker lost his balance, Stephanie took a few quick steps towards her dressing table and tried to grab the crystal vase to throw at the man, but it was long enough for him to regain his composure and point his gun at her again.

"I see Caffrey scored himself a feisty one for a change," the man grinned back at her.

"Who are you?" Stephanie demanded.

"I think you can guess who I am, Mrs H," he continued. "Your sweetheart and I go back a long way."

"Matthew Keller," Stephanie said, almost spitting out his name.

"Very good! Beautiful, rich _**and**_ smart! Caffrey definitely scored a trifecta with you!" Keller replied.

"What do you want, Keller?" Stephanie asked. "You want money? Neal tells me you're nothing but a petty thief."

"Oh, I want more than just cash, honey," Keller laughed. "I want the U-boat treasure Caffrey's got stashed away."

Stephanie hoped Keller did not catch her look of surprise. "I think you're mistaken there, Keller. From what I hear, that art all went up in flames at the pier."

"You and 'loverboy' may be able to fool the Feds, but you can't fool me," Keller snickered. "I've seen the art."

"If you've seen it," Stephanie began, "then you know where it is. Why don't you just take it?"

"Well, you see, I tried asking your friend, Hale, nicely, and he refused to give up the prize. If he'd been more helpful, I wouldn't be here asking you now," Keller said.

"The FBI knows you killed him," Stephanie said in a harsh tone of voice. "You've got a lot of nerve breaking into my home and pointing a gun at me," Stephanie stalled as she tried to work out her chances of getting away. Her own gun was locked in her dresser drawer whenever she was not home.

"Well, I didn't have to do much breaking in, as you may have noticed," Keller continued to grin at her. "But you might need to think about getting a new housekeeper."

Stephanie's face was suddenly filled with horror and concern. "What did you do to her?" she demanded angrily.

"**I** didn't do anything to her but you might want to check the City Morgue for any unidentified bodies brought in the last few days," Keller replied with a wicked smile.

Stephanie felt her heart beat faster and adrenaline was pumping through her veins. Without hesitation, she lunged towards Keller. The gun misfired and hit the mirror of her dressing table but the force knocked Keller off his feet and his gun out of his hand.

Keller fell onto the floor, bringing Stephanie down on top of him. As she was about to hit him again, Keller caught her arm with one hand and punched her in the face with the other, then threw her off him. They both tried to reach for the gun that had fallen onto the floor. Stephanie reached the gun a split second before Keller but he kicked it out of her hand before she was able to turn around. With a quick move, he punched her in the face again.

In an instant, Stephanie's world went black.

* * *

><p>"Word on the street is there's a huge bounty on Keller's head right now," Mozzie said as he entered Neal's apartment. Neal was at the stove cooking dinner.<p>

"What are you talking about?" Neal asked as his friend headed straight for his wine rack.

"Apparently, news of Hale's heinous murder upset more than just you and me," Mozzie continued.

"How big a bounty are we talking about?" Neal asked as he dished out some risotto for himself and his friend.

"Let's just say Matthew Keller is now the six million dollar man," Mozzie replied. The two sat down at the table to eat.

"Six million," Neal repeated. "Isn't that how much the Degas sold for?" Mozzie nodded. "Moz, you know what this means?"

"Caffrey Senior is a very upset man," Mozzie replied. "Have you talked to him yet?"

"I started pressing the buttons but just couldn't finish dialling," Neal admitted.

"You can't hold this off forever," Mozzie said. "We need to know what he's got planned. This is getting way out of hand. There are only so many curve balls being thrown at us that we can hit back before we get hit ourselves."

"Keller is the only man in the way of his big getaway," Neal said.

"He's not the only man," Mozzie commented.

"What do you mean?" Neal asked.

"I mean you – if you don't count the Suit," Mozzie replied. "You haven't exactly said yes to your father and he's still waiting for your move."

Neal's phone rang and he picked it up. It was Peter.

"Neal, I'll be at your front door in five minutes," Peter said before Neal even had a chance to say hello.

"Why?" Neal asked.

"I'll explain on the way but Stephanie's just been taken to the hospital," Peter said with great urgency.

"What happened? Is she OK?" Neal asked. Mozzie looked quizzically at his friend as Neal's face filled with concern.

"She is alive and that's all I have right now. Diana and Jones should be arriving at the hospital in the next few minutes. I'll see you in five," Peter said and clicked off.

"What's wrong?" Mozzie asked as Neal hung up, still looking stunned.

"Come on Moz. We're going to the hospital," Neal replied. He quickly grabbed his jacket and started out the door.

* * *

><p>Neal, Peter and Mozzie were in a half-run up the hospital corridor as soon as the elevator doors opened. It was clear which room Stephanie Harper was in by the number of NYPD officers and FBI agents standing guard outside.<p>

Peter flashed his badge as the trio approached the door. "Who's the officer-in-charge?" Peter asked one of the NYPD officers.

"That'll be Sergeant Bateman. He's taking Mrs Harper's statement in there now with a couple of your agents," the officer replied.

Sergeant Bateman came out from Stephanie's room just then.

Peter introduced himself to the police officer: "Sergeant Bateman, I'm FBI Agent Peter Burke."

"Yeah, Agent Burke. Captain Shattuck's told me to expect you, said you'd be taking over this case," the sergeant replied.

"Thank you, Sergeant. We'll talk to her now if you're done with taking her statement," Peter said.

"Well, the Doc is with her now. You can talk to her if you want, but she said she was knocked out and didn't see who attacked her," Sergeant Bateman added. He turned to his fellow officers and waved for them to follow him.

Neal pushed past the departing officers and went straight for Stephanie's room. Peter and Mozzie followed closely behind. Diana and Jones were at Stephanie's bedside. The lights had been dimmed. Neal could see that her eyes were closed when he entered the room but as he got closer, he could see that her left eye had been swollen shut. Her face was badly bruised and she had stitches just near the temple. Her right hand was in a plaster cast up to the elbow.

The doctor made some adjustments to Stephanie's IV drip, then said to the gathering in the room, "As you can see, she's been through a pretty brutal attack. Ultrasounds have shown no internal bleeding or permanent damage to internal organs but I expect it'll take a couple of months for all the injuries to completely heal. For now, she needs rest. I've given her some sedatives to help her sleep. You've got about five minutes. "

"Thank you, doctor," Peter said as the doctor left the room.

Neal walked over to Stephanie's bedside, leant over and gently kissed her forehead. Stephanie opened her good eye to see Neal, looking concerned. She attempted a smile. "Hi," she said weakly.

"OK, well, you've got my attention now," Neal whispered and returned the smile. He took her left hand in his and sat down on the edge of her bed.

Peter walked over to Diana and Jones, while Mozzie remained by the door.

"What do we know?" Peter whispered.

"She'd come home a week earlier than expected. Her housekeeper was still out of town. The Concierge went up to her apartment to bring up her dinner that she'd ordered from a restaurant uptown. He said there was no answer on her phone but he went up anyway. Her door was open when he got there," Diana began her report to Peter. "According to NYPD there was no forced entry."

"She had only upgraded her security a month ago," Mozzie chimed in. The agents turned to look at him. "So I heard," he added.

"NYPD says they found what appears to be a panic room hidden behind a wall in her library," Diana reported. Peter raised his eyebrows at this news. "The library was a bit messed up where her assailant must have been looking for the way into the hidden room. It looks like she may have kept some paintings in there. All that was left were empty frames so we won't know what's been taken until she files a report," Diana continued.

"It looks like her attacker waited till she had gone into her bedroom to try and catch her by surprise. She put up quite a fight though. Broken bones in her right hand, bruises on her arms, neck and face, cut around her eye and a concussion," Jones added.

"Maybe I should have accepted that banana knife you offered," Stephanie said in a half-whisper and smiled weakly at Neal.

Neal laughed, turned to see Mozzie also with a smile on his face, while the FBI agents looked at them with bewilderment. "Yeah, Mozzie has the best toys, doesn't he?"

"Good thing the FBI sent me for combat training," she joked.

Stephanie's smile weakened as she closed her eye. Neal held her hand up to his lips and closed his eyes.

Peter stepped up to Stephanie's bedside. "Stevie," Peter spoke quietly as he watched her slow breath.

"It was Matthew Keller," she said before Peter had the chance to ask the question.

* * *

><p>Stephanie lost consciousness and succumbed to the sedatives.<p>

Neal reluctantly left Stephanie's bedside and joined Mozzie and the FBI agents out in the hallway outside her hospital room. Peter was giving instructions to Agents Blake and Adams to stand guard outside her room. Mozzie was looking increasingly uncomfortable about being in the presence of so many Feds.

Diana was talking to a nurse at the nurses' station and returned to the group. "We can use the Nurses' Lounge down the hall," she reported and led the way.

Peter, Jones, Mozzie and Neal followed. The lounge was empty. Jones closed the door once they were all inside.

"Neal," Peter started. "What do you know about this secret room in her study?"

"She said it was there when she and Ryan bought the apartment," Neal replied.

"Have you seen it?" Peter asked.

"She may have shown it to me," Neal tried to dodge the question as best he could but was met by Peter's angry glare. "All right, yes, I have seen it."

"What was in there?" Peter pushed on.

"Like Diana said, there were paintings," Neal replied.

"What kind of paintings?" Peter kept up the questioning.

"Look, Peter, I really think this is up to Stephanie to tell you," Neal said. "After all, it's her apartment and her property and shouldn't we be trying to work out how to catch Keller as a priority right now?"

"Hmph," Peter muttered and put his hands on his hips.

"She thinks something might have happened to Sofia," Neal told Peter.

"Her housekeeper?" Peter asked.

"Of course!" Mozzie exclaimed. "That's the only way anyone could have broken into her apartment."

Peter gave Mozzie a look, then turned to Jones and Diana. "Put out a BOLO for Sofia Gonzalez. Stephanie mentioned she was going to visit some relatives in Columbia. I'm sure there'll be a photo of her in the penthouse. Send that to everyone. Check with local and Columbian police, hospitals, check everyone and everywhere. And I want you to check whatever security footage they have in her building. I want to know exactly who came in and out of that building and find out if Keller was working alone in this."

The two agents nodded and quickly left to follow Peter's instructions.

"Keller?" Peter asked, looking at his partner.

Neal and Mozzie exchanged glances.

Peter moved closer into Neal's space. "Keller kills Hale, knows the entire law enforcement community is after him for a number of crimes, goes after an innocent housekeeper, attacks a high-profile Manhattan businesswoman who happens to be your girlfriend and you're trying to tell me you have no idea why?"

When Neal did not reply, Peter stepped back, turned to Mozzie and asked, "What do you know about a $6 million bounty on Keller's head?"

"Do I look like I have six million dollars?" Mozzie asked.

Peter looked back at Neal and asked, "Does Keller think Stephanie put the hit on him? What does he think she knows?" Peter was full of questions and he was not about to stop until he had some answers.

"Peter, Stephanie is one of the wealthiest people in New York. There could be any number of reasons why he would target her. I mean, the police found those empty frames so he was obviously after her art collection," Neal replied.

"I don't believe in coincidences," Peter said.

Neal shrugged. Peter looked from him to Mozzie, then back to Neal. "Neal, this is no time for games. We all know what Keller is capable of. In that room," Peter pointed in the direction of Stephanie's hospital room, "in that room is a woman who could have become another one of his victims if she hadn't been able to defend herself. And God only knows what he may have done to Sofia. Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Neal and Mozzie exchanged looks but neither said anything. Finally, Neal said, "There's only one reason I can think of that would bring Keller back to New York."

"He thinks you have the treasure."

"Yes, and he must think threatening Stephanie would scare me into telling him where it is," Neal finally said.

"Do you have it?" Peter asked.

"Peter, we've been through this before," Neal replied.

Peter looked from Neal to Mozzie again and let out a frustrated sigh. Once again, they were at an impasse.

Moments passed. Finally, Neal said, "Look, Peter, if Keller thinks I have the treasure then he'll come after me next."

"And what will you do if he does, Neal?" Peter asked, still angry.

"We'll draw him out then you can arrest him," Neal replied.

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy, do you?" Peter asked. "Might I remind you he has been a step ahead of us every time? This is not your little backgammon or chess or whatever **game** you think you're still playing!"

"Listen, Peter," Neal tried to remain calm. "If Keller had wanted to kill Stephanie, he would have. He left her alive as a message to me – that he knows I'm going to take the bait and give him what he wants. He's going to come after me next."

"And how do you plan on luring him out of hiding?" Peter asked, staring intensely at Neal. "Do you know where he is?"

Neal shook his head. "So, you don't know where he is, and you don't know how you're going to lure him out but you are sure he's going to come after you but you don't know when," Peter continued. "Are you going to risk the lives of everyone you know while he does the rounds to send you more messages until you finally hand over the treasure that you allegedly did not take?"

"Look, Peter, give us a few hours to figure this thing out and we'll get back to you," Neal pleaded with Peter.

Peter looked at Neal, then at Mozzie, then put his hands on his hips and let out his breath. He checked his watch – it was already nearly midnight. Reluctantly, he said, "Stephanie's going to be out for the rest of the night. You've got till the morning."

"Thank you, Peter!" Neal said as he began to pull Mozzie out of the room.

"And we are not done talking about the paintings Keller stole from Stephanie either!" Peter called out as Neal and Mozzie hurried out.

* * *

><p>Mozzie waited uncomfortably by the door with the FBI agents guarding Stephanie's hospital room as Neal walked past them to go inside.<p>

He took a long look at Stephanie Harper, lying in that sterile hospital bed with all her injuries, all because of him. Neal had few regrets in his life but at that moment, he felt his entire body fill up with regrets, weighing him down. Quietly, he pulled up a chair beside her bed and sat down. He took her hand in his and curled his long fingers into hers.

"I'm going to get him," he whispered. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to stop him. He's going to pay for what he's done – to you, to Hale, and Sofia."

He held Stephanie's hand a few minutes longer, then stood up and placed a soft kiss on her lips. He tucked her hand back in under the starched stiff hospital sheets and quietly exited her room.

"When were you going to tell me about the secret art collection she has hidden in her apartment?" Mozzie asked as he and Neal left the hospital and walked into the cold night air.

"Really, Moz? **That** is your first question to me?" Neal asked.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Mozzie apologised. "Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to Secret Suit," Mozzie said. "I always liked her."

"You're talking like she's dead, Moz," Neal scolded.

"How did Keller know about the secret room?" Mozzie asked.

"I don't know," Neal had wondered the same thing himself. "Good guess, maybe? Or maybe Sofia knew and she offered it up in the hopes he would let her go?"

"Or maybe Hale?" Mozzie speculated. "Remember, we had no audio on that security feed from his car. He could have told Keller the Degas came from her so he figures she's got it hidden in her apartment?"

"Hale was a friend, Moz. He wouldn't sell her out like that," Neal replied.

"Hale was **our** friend, Neal," Mozzie replied. "Maybe he thought it came from us and he sold her out to protect us?"

"And how do you think Stephanie would have gotten all that treasure into her apartment without anyone noticing?" Neal asked.

Mozzie shrugged. "I didn't say it was a credible theory."

"You think Hale gave Stephanie up to Keller instead of my father?" Neal pondered.

"Anything is possible but we'll never know," Mozzie concluded.

"It doesn't matter now. If Keller thinks the Degas is from the sub then he knows the treasure is more valuable than what he took from Stephanie's apartment, and he is definitely not going to leave New York until he's got it," Neal said. "We have to nail Keller, and put him away forever."

"How?"

"Put the word out on the street that there's another piece for sale," Neal said simply.

"Assuming you are right, after what happened to Hale, do you think anyone will want to touch something as hot as what we have to offer?"

"Do you have any other ideas, Moz?" Neal asked. Mozzie shook his head. "We have a lot of friends in our community, Moz. If they won't do it for me or you, they'll do it for Hale. I'm sure we can think of a reliable fence," Neal said.

"I wish Alex was here," Mozzie lamented.

"Yeah, me too, but we don't know where she disappeared to after the explosion and we don't have time to find her," Neal said. "Besides, Peter knows her and she'd be the first one he suspects. We have to think outside the usual suspects."

Both men were deep in thought as they continued walking.

"What about Rusty?" Mozzie suggested.

"Do it," Neal agreed after some consideration.

"What do I tell him? Are we going to use one of the paintings we actually have or something else to throw the Feds off our trail? ," Mozzie asked.

Neal pondered this for a moment. "Let's use something from the sub. We'll deal with the Feds later if it comes to that. I want to see what my father's next move is."

"Still scared about calling your Dad?" Mozzie asked.

"I wanted Stephanie to be there when I talked to him," Neal replied.

"Do you think he knows what's happened to Secret Suit?" Mozzie asked.

"The only other people I know who's been in contact with my Dad are June and Cindy. I'm going to go home and get changed and come back to the hospital. I'll talk to June and find out what she knows," Neal said.

"OK, so that still leaves us with the question of which piece we should use as bait," Mozzie said.

"How about Picasso's portrait of Fernande Olivier?" Neal asked after some thought.

"Good choice!" Mozzie agreed. "What are you going to tell the Suit in the morning?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," Neal admitted. His phone rang. It was Peter. "Peter," he greeted. "Checking up on me already?"

"We found Sofia," came Peter's reply. "She never made it out of New York." Neal stopped walking. Mozzie came to a standstill next to his friend. "A Jane Doe matching her description was found at the city morgue. She was stabbed and left to die in a ditch by the side of the road near JFK. There was no ID on her. He must have taken her luggage and ditched them somewhere else so Stephanie wouldn't find out till she came home."

"So if no ID was found on her it could still be someone else?" Neal asked hopefully.

"Neal, they sent us a photo. She was pretty badly bruised and beaten before she was stabbed, but I have no doubt it's her. We've just accessed her dental records so they'll be able to make an ID. We're also doing DNA tests to confirm but we have to prepare Stephanie for the news when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Peter," Neal said and hung up.

Mozzie waited for Neal. "He killed her, Moz. Keller tortured Sofia, then stabbed her and left her to die by the side of the road," Neal reported angrily.

Mozzie sighed but said nothing. "We have to stop him," Neal said.

"So, about Stephanie's secret collection…"


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Neal had hardly slept as he exited the elevator on the 21st floor of the FBI building. Of course, he still looked immaculate in his trademark suit and fedora, but his muscles ached from having kept vigil in the armchair by the side of Stephanie's hospital bed. Her condition remained stable through the night.

When Neal got home to change, he woke June up from her sleep to tell her about Stephanie's attack. She had been horrified but she had not been able to contact his father either. So that left Neal with two major unknowns to deal with – one was Keller and the other his own father. Both capable of hurting people he loved the most.

Stephanie had tossed in her sterile hospital bed all night as if trying to fight off an attacker. At one point, she pulled the cannula for the morphine drip right out of her arm. He had tried to wake her from her sleep to stop the nightmares but the sedatives had been too strong and she remained in that nightmarish dream-state all through the night.

He had been reluctant to leave her side in the morning but he needed to be in the office, to work with Peter to find and stop Keller. Mozzie had left a message that he had been unsuccessful in contacting Rusty which was just as big a problem. They had no backup plan.

Neal headed straight up to Peter's office. Diana and Jones were already in there, hunched over Peter's desk, and all three agents looked up as Neal arrived at Peter's door. None of the agents looked like they had had any sleep either.

"How is she?" Peter asked.

"She was stable but still asleep when I left the hospital this morning," Neal replied and sat in one of the chairs opposite Peter.

"You spent the night there?" Jones asked. Neal nodded. "Damn, man, how do you still look so good if you spent the night sleeping at the hospital?"

Peter and Diana gave Jones a look and shut him down. Neal was in no mood to smile even at such a compliment.

"What are you all looking at?" Neal changed the subject.

"Coroner's report on Sofia's murder," Peter answered.

"You've got positive ID?" Neal asked.

"DNA results haven't come back yet but the dental records were a match," Diana answered.

"Anything on the crime scene?" Neal asked.

"CSU didn't find the weapon but the coroner believes she was stabbed with a large knife, likely to be some kind of hunting knife," Jones replied.

"How did he get her, Peter?" Neal asked.

"From what we can gather, Sofia left Stephanie's building the day after she left for her business trip," Peter explained. "She was picked up by a car service to head to JFK but she never made it there. We checked out the security footage from inside and outside the building. The driver who picked her up was wearing a chauffeur's cap and knew well enough to keep his head down so that we couldn't see his face…"

"But Ted, the doorman, gave us a positive ID it was Keller when I showed him his photo," Diana finished for Peter and dropped a photo taken from the surveillance footage on the desk to show Neal.

"Could you see what Sofia's reaction was when she saw Keller at the door?" Neal asked.

"She didn't seem to recognise him and the camera angle wasn't low enough to allow us to see what they were talking about but she walked to the waiting car, Keller opened the door for her. She got in while he took her bag and put it in the trunk. He turned back towards Ted and tipped his hat to him before getting into the driver's side and drove off," Jones said.

"It's not like Keller to do the dirty work himself," Neal commented. "He had to have had an accomplice. If they can't find a murder weapon or other signs of Keller at the scene, then we can't tie him to the murder. And if he's working with someone else, then there must be loose ends somewhere we can tie back to him."

"Don't forget, he did kill Hale," Peter replied. "But you're right – he usually leaves the dirty work to someone else. The Evidence Recovery Team is still processing everything they found at the scene. They know it's top priority right now."

"Barry, the concierge, said the Harpers always used the same limo service and they usually send the same one or two drivers," Diana continued. "However, he said Stephanie has occasionally been using a different driver in the last few months – a man they only know as Jeffrey."

Diana placed a photo of another man in a chauffeur uniform on the desk in front of Neal. It looked almost identical to the one of Keller, except for the body shape and size. Again, it was impossible to identify the face of this man.

"We looked at as much security footage as we had of every time Jeffrey came to pick up Stephanie," Diana continued. "Ted said she always seemed anxious and serious whenever Jeffrey came to pick her up but she seemed to be comfortable with him, like she knew him."

"We tried to get Barry and Ted to describe this man to our sketch artist but his profile could fit the average Caucasian man in his mid-to-late fifties," Jones said. "Because of the uniform covering most of his body, there was no way of telling if he had any other distinguishing marks like tattoos or scars either. It seems the only thing that can be considered special about our mystery chauffeur is his walk."

Neal raised his eyebrows at Jones. "Did he have a limp?" Neal asked.

"They said he had a kind of strut," Jones replied.

"A strut?" Neal asked. "Like Travolta?" Jones shrugged.

Neal picked up the photo for a closer inspection. Although the only proper image Neal had of his father were photos more than thirty years old, Neal had no doubt he was looking at a photo of Nicholas Caffrey. _"You kept your head down, just like Keller did, so no-one could identify your face, didn't you, Dad?"_ Neal thought to himself. He wondered what else his father had in common with the dangerous Keller.

Neal was so deep in his own thoughts he did not even realise the agents were still talking to him.

"Neal," Peter was saying.

"Huh? Sorry, Peter," Neal said as he looked up from the photo.

"You know this man?" Peter asked.

"No," Neal said. "Can't say that I know him." Neal put the photo back down. "But I'd love to meet him."

"Well, while you were spacing out over there, we were saying that we've been trying to talk to someone from the limo company to find out who this man is but we have to wait for their office hours to get any answers," Peter added.

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Neal asked. "You can't exactly put out a BOLO on a man who fits 'Every Man' and expect results."

"We'll need to question Stephanie about this 'Jeffrey' as soon as possible," Peter replied. "I've asked Agent Westley to call me as soon as she wakes up."

Neal gave Peter a concerned and disapproving look. "I don't like this any more than you do, Neal," Peter said in response to that look. "But Keller is a dangerous man, and the longer he's out there, the more time he has to plan his next escape and we can't risk that."

Neal sighed. "I think we can safely assume he's not working with Keller."

"Why do you say that?" Diana asked.

"Because none of us knew anything about the treasure until recently and it seems like this man has been coming around before we took down Adler," Neal answered.

"So what's your plan for finding Keller?" Peter asked.

"We lure him out," Neal replied. "I've asked Moz to get the word out that we have another long-forgotten piece of art for sale, let Keller get wind of it and I guarantee you the temptation will be irresistible to him."

"How's he going to do that?" Jones asked but his question was greeted by a you-don't-want-to-know look from Neal. He did not pursue that further.

"When Keller surfaces," Neal continued, "We will arrange to meet him somewhere for the exchange. Then you can arrest him."

"That sounds too simple," Diana said. "You think he's going to fall for that? I mean, he's been three steps ahead of us every time."

"I'm sure he'll have his escape routes all planned out," Neal replied. "So we'll have to make sure we shut him down and catch him red-handed. He's got as much time to plan his escape as we do to plan how to stop him. It's a more level playing field than we've had with Keller in a long time."

Neal, Diana and Jones all looked to Peter for his lead. "OK," Peter agreed. "We go with your plan but I want to know the second someone makes contact with you or Mozzie or whoever else you've got working on this."

Neal nodded and got up to leave.

"Neal, wait," Peter said before Neal could take a step. "I want to talk to you alone." He then turned to Jones and Diana and said, "Keep me posted with whatever you find." The two agents picked up their files and left Peter's office.

Neal remained on his feet. "Peter, I really should check in with Mozzie and head back to the hospital in case Stephanie wakes up. She had a real bad night last night and I want her to see a friendly face when she wakes up."

"I agree," Peter said. "But we need to talk."

Neal sat back down.

"What is Stephanie going to tell me when I go see her about this mystery chauffeur named Jeffrey?" Peter asked.

"I don't know, Peter, you'll have to wait and ask her to find out," Neal replied. He was treading on dangerous territory here – he had never lied to Peter and he did not want to start now.

"When you were looking at that photo, you looked like you recognised him," Peter continued.

"I told you I don't know him, Peter," Neal insisted. "Am I being interrogated here?"

"No, but I don't like surprises and I don't like secrets either," Peter replied.

"Some secrets are better kept hidden, Peter, for everyone," Neal said.

"What was in that panic room in Stephanie's apartment?" Peter asked.

"It was none of my business," Neal replied. "It was none of hers either." Peter raised his eyebrows at this. "As far as I know, there are three people alive who have seen what was in that room: one is lying in a hospital bed, another is never going to admit it because he could be thrown in prison for it."

"And you're the third," Peter finished for Neal. "And you're not going to talk."

Neal did not reply. Instead, he got up again. "Stephanie will answer your questions when she's ready to talk."

This time, Peter did not stop him.

* * *

><p>As Neal left Peter's office and headed towards the stairs leading down to the bullpen, he saw a man loitering at his desk as if looking for clues – or perhaps evidence. Neal made him out to be Agent Kramer, Peter's mentor from his 'probie' days nearly twenty years ago.<p>

"Can I help you?" Neal asked when he arrived at his desk.

The older man looked up, holding up the Socrates bust he kept on his desk and said, "The greatest way to live honourably is to be what we pretend to be. I'm paraphrasing but I don't think old Socrates here would mind." The man put the bust back down, then held out his hand, "I'm…"

"Agent Kramer," Neal took his hand and shook it. "Head of the Bureau's DC Art Crimes Unit."

"Yeah, I'd say this moment was inevitable, Mr Caffrey, given I am who I am and you are who you are," Kramer said.

"So, what brings DC to New York, Agent Kramer?" Neal asked.

"Oh, I'm here to visit an old friend," Kramer replied, smiling coyly and looked up towards Peter's office. "Seems there was some excitement here in the Big Apple last night."

"It wasn't my kind of excitement," Neal replied.

"Well, I will do whatever I can to help Petey out," Kramer said as he continued to smile at Neal. "It was nice meeting you finally, Mr Caffrey," he said, holding out his hand to Neal again. "We will be seeing a lot more of each other while I'm here, I'm sure."

"I'm sure we will," Neal shook the agent's hand.

Kramer turned and Neal watched as he headed up to Peter's office. Neal headed in the opposite direction to leave and wondered, as he waited for the elevator to arrive, how much worse this day could get.

* * *

><p>Peter got up from behind his desk and went to greet his old friend and mentor.<p>

"You never come visit us anymore," Kramer said to Peter as the two shook hands.

"Well, I've been busy," Peter smiled.

"We know all about Gotham City's finest cop and robber team down in DC," Kramer said. "Quite an impressive conviction rate you have with your CI."

Peter smiled and gestured for Kramer to sit as he walked back to his own chair behind his desk. He leaned back in his seat and said, "Caffrey's been a great asset to us since he started working with us."

"And yet you called for help…" Kramer said. Peter's smile quickly disappeared. "You still think the art from the sub didn't burn and that Caffrey has it."

"With the rumour of a new Degas that just sold on the black market, and especially after Stephanie Harper's attack by Caffrey's old pal, Matthew Keller, I am even more convinced that he has the treasure," Peter admitted.

"Until we can get confirmation that the Degas is the same one that's on our manifest, we can't jump to any conclusions," Kramer advised.

"I agree," Peter said. "But now we've hit a snag since the man who fenced the Degas was murdered by Keller so our trail has gone cold."

"My team has been keeping our eyes and ears out," Kramer said. "If there's any chatter at all, we'll know about it."

"I appreciate all the help I can get," Peter replied. "I feel like I'm a man short on this case…"

"Petey, these are short-term relationships at best," Kramer advised. "Do you still trust him?" he asked.

"Neal is my CI," Peter replied.

"He's also a friend," Kramer finished for him.

"I have tried to think of every scenario where he doesn't have anything to do with the fire at the warehouse," Peter said. "But every time I think maybe he really didn't have anything to do with it or that the art really did burn, something happens to change my mind again. A known associate of Neal's gets gunned down in broad daylight in a rooftop parking lot by the same man who just launched a brutal attack on his girlfriend; then a six million dollar bounty is put on Keller's head, the same value we believe the Degas sold for – all these things have one common denominator."

"You realise when we catch him, you're not slapping cuffs on a criminal, you're taking down a friend," Kramer said.

Peter sighed. "That's why you're here. I need an outside perspective."

"Are you prepared for the aftermath when the truth comes out?" Kramer asked.

Peter paused. It was the question he had asked a million times and tried to avoid.

"Pete, if Neal is a suspect, then you have to treat him like one," Kramer said.

Peter remained contemplative.

"You know how lawyers have a saying 'don't ask a question in court you don't already know the answer to'?" Kramer asked. "Keep that in mind, Petey."

* * *

><p>Neal called Mozzie as soon as he was out of the FBI building, "Mozzie, we have a problem."<p>

"We should start a list," Mozzie replied.

"Agent Kramer is in town," Neal reported.

"Isn't that the Suit's old boss from DC?" Mozzie asked. "You think they've found the Degas?"

"I don't know," Neal replied. "I know Peter has been working on something with Diana – I've seen them have these hush-hush meetings and they clamp up every time I approach, and now Kramer is here. It's not good, Moz."

"I repeat: too many curve balls!" Mozzie exclaimed. "What do we do now?"

"We stick with our plan – we deal with Keller first, and figure out what Peter and Kramer know, then we'll deal with that later," Neal said.

"And your father?" Mozzie asked.

"He's gone off the grid, Moz. The number Stephanie gave me was obviously to a burner phone," Neal said.

"What about June?" Mozzie asked.

"She said she's tried contacting him but his trail's gone cold," Neal said.

"So Secret Suit is our last hope?" Mozzie asked.

"I'm on my way to see her now. Let's deal with one thing at a time – we nail Keller."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

"What would you do?" Neal asked from beside Stephanie's hospital bed.

"This is not about me," Stephanie replied. She was still weak and drowsy from her injuries and all the medications she was on. She began wondering if it might be a good thing she was having this conversation while sedated. She tried to sit up.

"No, but you're as entrenched in this as I am, if not more so," Neal replied.

"I didn't do this for me or for you," she said.

Neal looked at Stephanie for a long time. He knew this all started as her way to keep her promise to her dying father many years ago. Her father had been his father's best friend and partner in NYPD before he disappeared. She had done this for her father and for his, long before they met.

Even after their time together and sharing intimate secrets with each other, Stephanie Harper remained a mystery to him.

Stephanie returned Neal's questioning gaze but gave nothing away.

"How did you know about Kramer and the manifest?" Neal asked.

"There's nothing that money can't buy. Friends in high and low places, depends on the perspective," Stephanie replied.

Neal decided not to push the matter.

Finally, Neal stood up, turned and walked towards the window, looking out.

"Have you spoken to your Dad yet?" Stephanie asked.

"He's gone off the grid. I tried calling him after your attack. June can't find him either," Neal replied.

After a brief silence, Neal turned back to Stephanie, "What was Plan B?"

"I don't know," Stephanie admitted. When Neal looked back at her unconvinced, she added, "Your Dad was not a very trusting man, something which you inherited, and probably rightly so. He told me what I needed to know and nothing more, unless he needed money, in which case he might share a little more."

Neal turned away again.

"Keller said he has seen the art," Stephanie said. "How?"

"What?" Neal turned back around.

"Before he TKO'd me, he asked me for the treasure and said he had seen the art. But he doesn't know where it is. So unless he has seen our treasure-cam feed, how does he even know the art didn't burn?" Stephanie said.

"He's seen the Degas," Neal ventured a guess.

"Neal, forget about Keller. Forget about your father. It's getting too dangerous for you to stay. Let the FBI catch Keller and you leave. You know where my safe is. There's everything you need in there – plenty of money for you to start a new life. Take it and go," Stephanie said.

"What?" Neal asked, not believing what she had just asked him to do.

"The treasure was never part of the original plan," Stephanie explained. "Nicholas spent thirty years trying to find a way to have a new life with you. The treasure was a bonus and he got greedy. If he'd wanted money I could have given him anything he wanted but he saw the opportunity and he got greedy and wanted more."

Neal was speechless.

She continued, "Neal, the treasure has brought nothing but trouble – Fowler, Adler, and now Keller. People have died because of this. It's time to end this now."

"I belong **here**," Neal said. "I can't leave Peter. I won't leave you."

"You can find another New York, Neal," Stephanie urged, "and you certainly don't want to stay with me."

"We have a plan to take down Keller," Neal said.

"We?" Stephanie asked. "As in, you and who else? Mozzie?"

"Peter, the FBI, and yes, Mozzie."

"Peter has brought in the big guns from DC, including his old mentor, Kramer, to take down whoever has the treasure and, believe me, DC doesn't care about what happens to you like Peter does. The only rope he's going to give you is enough to hang yourself with."

"What would happen to you if I ran?" Neal asked.

"Why does it matter?" Stephanie asked.

"Peter will suspect you had something to do with it," Neal answered.

"They've got nothing on me. The Bureau has more to lose than they would gain by exposing me as an undercover agent who's turned to aiding and abetting a convicted criminal to run on his tracking anklet," Stephanie said. "If not, I will lie. It wouldn't be the first time."

Neal looked intensely at her. He was not sure what to make of this woman who had been through so much. She seemed to him all at once to be strong yet vulnerable, compassionate yet ruthless, passionate yet disinterested.

And then it hit him like a brick. He walked back to her bedside.

"You've been planning to disappear, haven't you?" Neal asked. He looked angry as he stared down at her. Everything began to make sense – the trips, the way she upped the philanthropic activities of the Harper Foundation in recent weeks to take attention away from her moving her cash around.

Stephanie looked up at him and her resolve fell apart at this. She avoided his gaze for a long time as she contemplated how she was going to respond.

"You and I can never have a future together," Stephanie said. And there it was.

"Your getaway money – you've been planning this for a long time," Neal said. It was no longer a question, but a statement.

"Peter is going to be here soon and he's going to be questioning you about Keller and what he took from your apartment," Neal warned. "What are you going to tell him?"

"Nothing that I am going to miss," Stephanie tried to smile.

Neal sat on the edge of Stephanie's bed and took both her hands into his.

"If I leave, you leave with me," Neal said with half-hopeful, half-pleading eyes.

"You always were a hopeless romantic, Neal," Stephanie replied as she felt herself losing control of her emotions.

Neal pulled her head towards his and kissed her deeply.

"Leave with me," Neal repeated.

"Neal," Stephanie began, "you have to do what's right for **you**, not for me, not for Nicholas, not for Peter or for Mozzie or anyone else."

She took a deep breath, then added, "It's your chance to have a life away from these complications. Time is running out for you to make your choice, Neal. If you can't choose who you want to be with, choose who you cannot be without."

"I will not let Keller run me out of town," Neal said with a new determination. "My life is here. In New York, with you, Peter, and Mozzie. Keller needs to go."

* * *

><p>It was raining hard when Peter headed to visit Stephanie at the hospital. He had been delayed after having to finalise a few things on the Verone &amp; Sassia blackmail case.<p>

On his way, he received a call from the agent on duty guarding her, Agent Westley, that she had wanted to visit the Cathedral. He thought it was a bad idea – she had not yet recovered from her injuries and Keller was still on the loose, but she would not take 'no' for an answer. So, Peter turned his car around and headed to find her.

There were about a dozen other people inside, spread out around different parts of the church, some kneeling in prayer while others were admiring the beauty of the church itself. He found Stephanie sitting in the last pew at the back of the Cathedral with Westley standing nearby. Peter whispered a few words to him and he went to wait outside.

Peter stood two feet behind Stephanie, debating whether he should approach her or wait.

After a few moments, without turning around, Stephanie said quietly but loudly enough for Peter to hear, "When was the last time you attended Mass, Peter?"

"I believe it was with you," Peter replied as he moved to sit in the pew next to her.

"You know, this was where Ryan and I got married twelve years ago. It was the biggest thing in Manhattan for about two seconds," she said with a gentle laugh.

"I remember," Peter said. "It was the top story in all the social pages and the bridal magazines all talked about what you wore, who did your hair and who did the catering."

"You read bridal magazines?" Stephanie teased.

"El was," Peter replied simply.

"Ah, of course," Stephanie said with a sigh, then added, "My wedding day was the saddest day of my life."

Peter turned his head and looked at her in surprise. The bruises were still visible despite the heavy layers of make-up on her face.

Without turning to return Peter's look, Stephanie said, "Don't look so surprised, Peter, not now that you know the truth about my marriage to Ryan."

Peter uttered an audible sigh, leant back in the pew and considered what to say.

Stephanie broke the silence after a few moments. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Peter."

"That was a long time ago, Stevie," Peter said. "The past is not important anymore. For what it's worth, I forgive you."

Stephanie finally turned her head to look at Peter and said, "I wish you wouldn't."

Peter looked back at her and saw the sadness in her eyes. "Do you know what the ancient Egyptians used to do with their pharaohs' organs before they mummify the bodies?" she asked.

"They remove the heart, lungs, liver, stomach and intestines, and then put them into jars to be buried with the body," Peter answered.

"The heart is removed, then put on scales to be weighed against a feather," Stephanie explained. "It was believed that if the king had lived a good and honest life, his heart would be light as a feather, unburdened by the weight of guilt. The heart would then be put back inside the body."

There was another moment of silence.

"Peter, about what you found in my apartment…" Stephanie began.

"There is nothing to say about that, Stevie," Peter interrupted. "Sara Ellis from Sterling Bosch inspected the crime scene and found nothing missing that had been insured by them. From what your office have told us, they were the only insurer you used for your private collection. As far as the Bureau and NYPD are concerned, they were just empty frames. Keller got nothing and took his frustration out on you, hence the attack."

Stephanie turned to look at Peter in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak again but saw the look on Peter's face that read "end of discussion".

"Ryan is gone," Peter continued. "After everything you have gone through and given up for the Bureau, that is the least we can do for one of its most loyal agents."

"How did you know?" Stephanie asked.

"Neal said there were only three people alive who have seen what was in that room. Stands to reason someone who is no longer alive was responsible for putting whatever was there in that room," Peter reasoned.

Stephanie smiled. Peter was always the smartest man she knew.

There was another brief pause between the pair.

"You know we found Sofia's body," Peter said.

"Yes," Stephanie answered with great sadness. "I've asked my office to arrange for her funeral and to make sure her family is looked after. She was a good woman. She looked after Ryan and me for many years. Her only mistake was meeting us."

"What did Matthew Keller want?" Peter finally asked.

"There it is," Stephanie smiled. "The job never stops."

"Stevie," Peter said. "You know he's killed an associate of Neal's already, and he killed Sofia. He nearly killed you. Did you put a bounty on his head?"

"I'm not a killer, Peter, but if I wanted him dead, I would have killed him myself the other night. I haven't forgotten all of my combat training."

"Do you know who put the bounty on his head?" Peter asked.

"No," Stephanie answered.

"Is the treasure still around?" Peter asked.

"Agent Burke, am I being interrogated?" Stephanie asked.

"Just trying to find the truth," Peter replied.

"I wouldn't have expected less from you," Stephanie said.

"Who was Jeffrey?" Peter asked as he took out the photo of the chauffeur from the building security video.

Stephanie took the photo from Peter, took a cursory glance before handing it back to Peter. "He was one of the regular drivers I used occasionally."

"Could he be working with Keller?" Peter asked.

"Jeffrey? Impossible."

"The limousine service you normally use said they'd never heard of him," Peter said.

"He didn't work for them. He was, let's say, an 'associate' of Ryan's. He came to me one day and said he wanted to go straight and I suggested he could get a job," Stephanie answered.

Peter considered her response.

Finally, Stephanie said, "The treasure wasn't in the warehouse that burnt that day."

"Did Neal take it?" Peter asked, surprised.

"No," Stephanie said simply.

"But you know who did?" Peter asked.

"There are still so many secrets I cannot tell you," Stephanie said.

"A secret is only secret if only one person knows," Peter said. "At some point, someone will slip up. The truth always comes out."

"How right you are, Peter Burke," Stephanie said. "Some secrets are worth keeping."

"Even if it means people die?" Peter asked.

"I have done so many things that you would not have approved of as to make Neal look like an absolute saint," Stephanie replied.

"I don't believe that," Peter said. "It's not too late, Stevie, for a fresh start. Get out of the FBI. Ryan's gone. You don't have to live a double life anymore."

"And what do you imagine this fresh start would look like?" Stephanie asked. "I leave the FBI, resign from the Harper Group, sell the penthouse and disappear to live a quiet life in the suburbs?"

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Peter laughed.

Stephanie smiled, "Yeah, I've had my share of adventures, so maybe a house in the suburbs wouldn't be such a bad idea." Stephanie got up to leave. Her gait was slow and awkward from the pain that was still coursing through her body.

Peter followed behind her. He tried to help her, with one hand on her back and the other holding on to her arm, careful not to exacerbate the pain.

"Have you told Elizabeth about Keller yet?" Stephanie asked as they walked.

Peter hesitated. Stephanie stopped and turned to face him. "You have to tell her, Peter," she said, looking up at the man she had betrayed so many years ago.

"She's your wife and she loves you. She understands your work is dangerous, and right now, she needs to know you're not tracking the average white collar criminal who sits behind his desk dreaming up ways to steal office supplies. She needs to know and be prepared. As you said, there are already too many secrets."

Peter nodded and the two continued towards the exit.

"Keller said he wanted the treasure," Stephanie said. "He said he had seen it but he obviously didn't know where it was, or he wouldn't be trying to hunt down Neal's friends."

"What do you mean he's seen it?" Peter asked.

"I don't know. My right hook got in the way of any further questions."

They stopped just outside the door. The rain had stopped and the sky had cleared. A rainbow was visible over the skyline.

Stephanie put on her large sunglasses to shield her eyes, still sensitive from the injuries she had suffered from her fight with Keller. She smiled and started humming.

"'Rainbow Connection'?" Peter asked.

Stephanie nodded. "It always struck me as one of the saddest songs I know."

* * *

><p>"Why don't you invite Neal over for dinner tonight?" Elizabeth asked her husband over the phone. "I'm making osso bucco tonight."<p>

"Stephanie's still in hospital. He'll probably want to be with her tonight," Peter replied.

"Maybe tell him to stop by and I'll pack her a care package? I baked this afternoon. Cupcakes will make everything better," Elizabeth said cheerily.

"I'll let him know," Peter said.

"And what time will you be home tonight?" El asked.

"I don't know, hon, there's still so much to do. We're doing whatever we can to help NYPD with the murder of Stephanie's housekeeper but I promise I will be home for dinner," Peter said.

"Why don't we make this our date night? We haven't had one in a while and one of my clients just recommended a movie that she thought we'd enjoy," El said.

"I can never say no to date night," Peter answered with a smile on his face. "What movie are we watching and should I bring some popcorn?"

"It's called '_Randy and the Mob'_. Supposed to be very funny," Elizabeth said.

"I could do with some comedy," Peter said. "I'll see you later, hon."

* * *

><p>"Moz, I need you to go check on the warehouse," Neal told Mozzie as he made a frantic call to his friend.<p>

"Why?" Mozzie asked.

"I just checked the treasure cam. The warehouse is empty, Moz!" Neal said.

"Empty? How can that be? It's got state of the art security!" Mozzie exclaimed.

"It means either my father has already moved it or Keller has," Neal said.

"OK, I'm on my way!" Mozzie replied.

"And be careful, Moz! Keller could be following you, or one of his minions."

"Don't worry, I'm always careful. Over and out!"

Neal hung up just as Peter walked through the doors to the bullpen.

"What did she say?" Neal asked.

"Elizabeth wants me to tell you she baked cupcakes and she's going to make up a care package for you to take to Stephanie when you visit her at the hospital tonight," Peter answered as he headed for his office.

"Thanks, but you know what I'm talking about," Neal said, following close behind Peter.

Peter did not say anything immediately. He walked into his office, took his jacket off, removed the gun from his holster and locked it in his top drawer. Neal waited. Peter put his hands on his hips and uttered an audible sigh.

"What do you want to know, Neal?" he asked.

Neal considered this for a moment before finally asking, "Is she going to be in trouble for what her husband did?"

"That matter is closed, Neal," Peter said.

"Good," Neal said.

"She told me Keller said he's seen the treasure but he doesn't know where it is. He went after her either because he thinks she knows where it is or that he thinks you'd give it up for her," Peter said.

"He's right. I would give it up for her," Neal said. Peter looked as if he was ready for a confession. "But I don't have it, Peter."

Peter started to say something when his phone rang. "Burke here," he said.

"Agent Burke! Did I catch you at a bad time?" a voice greeted enthusiastically. Peter's eyes grew wide at the sound of Keller's voice. Neal caught the change in his friend's expression and became alarmed.

"Keller," Peter said. "My door is open if you want to come in and give yourself up."

"Oh, Burkey! What would be the fun in that?" Keller mocked. "The game is not over yet."

"It is for you," Peter said.

"You know I'm not going to leave until I have the treasure," Keller replied. "I need your help."

"My help? Turn yourself in and I'll see what I can do," Peter replied.

"Our interests are more mutual than you think," Keller continued.

"And you know this how?" Peter asked.

"Because I've seen the treasure. Your boy, Caffrey, and his girlfriend – they have it and I want it."

"Why would I help you?"

"That's a good question," Keller replied. "How about you and Caffrey go home to your lovely wife. She's spent the day in your brand new kitchen baking cupcakes which would make for a lovely care package for his girlfriend in the hospital, and then you can sit down to a delicious dinner of osso bucco. Maybe you can think it over while you watch '_Randy and the Mob'_? I hear it's a funny movie."

* * *

><p>"I need to know where the treasure is!" Neal demanded as he stormed into Stephanie's hospital room.<p>

"What happened?" Stephanie asked, a little frightened by the look on Neal's face.

"Keller took Elizabeth!" Neal replied.

"What? When?" Stephanie asked.

"About an hour ago. Peter just got a call from him when he got back to the office. We got to their house and she was gone. The door had been kicked in and the neighbours said they saw someone take her away and called the police."

"Oh my God," Stephanie said. "Help me get dressed. I need to get out of here."

"No," Neal said. "You're in no condition to leave. I just need to know where the treasure is. We need it to get Elizabeth back."

"What? I haven't moved it. I haven't even been to the warehouse since I went there with you. Are you sure it's gone?" Stephanie asked.

"I checked the treasure cam and it was empty so I sent Mozzie out there to check and he said there was nothing there, not even a trace of anything having been there. If you didn't move it, that means my father has already moved it. Has he tried to contact you at all?"

"No, I haven't spoken to him since before I went to DC," Stephanie replied.

"Now what?" Neal asked desperately.

The two were silent while they thought of a plan.

"Neal, Keller doesn't **know** what was in the sub," Stephanie said. "What if we give him something else to make him think it's from the sub?"

"How do we do that?" Neal asked. "You have more WWII art hidden in your penthouse I didn't know about?"

"Not in the penthouse," Stephanie replied.

"Seriously?" Neal said.

"What are Keller's terms? Has he said when he wants the exchange to take place?" Stephanie asked.

"He gave Peter twenty-four hours to deliver him the art or he said he was going to kill Elizabeth," Neal answered.

"Does the FBI have any idea where he's taken El?" Stephanie asked.

"They found blood on Satchmo's teeth and chin that probably belongs to the kidnapper. That's all they've got to go on for now," Neal replied.

"Does anyone else know about Keller's demands?"

"No, only Peter and I were in the office when he called," Neal said. "Peter is worried about getting anyone else involved in the treasure hunt. He's trying to get them to focus on finding Elizabeth."

"Good," Stephanie said. "Now, I'm going to need your help getting us some lost art. We can't afford to waste time looking for Nicholas Caffrey."

* * *

><p><em><strong>- FIN -<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: As at time of writing, I had already watched the advanced screener for "Checkmate" which was about the rescue of Elizabeth after she was kidnapped by Keller. Although I already knew how the episode ended and what happened to the treasure and Keller, I decided to stop the story here.**_

'_**Randy and the Mob' is a fantastic comedy co-starring the awesome Tim DeKay. You should check it out. Highly recommended for any date night :)**_


End file.
